Tales From Another Broken Home
by SunilaMoon
Summary: In the midst of the organization Delilah, another drama is unfolding, and the other side of a dark story is being written in tears and blood. Cassian/Jizabel with abit of CassandraxJizabel, R&R please. Warnings: Yaoi. Duh ...aaaaand some non-con.
1. Prologue

_"I don't feel any shame, I wont apologize  
When there ain't nowhere you can go.  
Running away from pain  
When you've been victimized...  
Tales from another broken home"_

--

Nine o'clock. Delilah headquarters, blending in with the rest of higher class london, blending into a world oblivious. Cassandra Gladstone was a proud example of this. Such a noble figure, such a hero to the common man. Such a joke. He _hated_ the lower class, they where cockroaches beneath his feet, the only exceptions being a few of the more attractive prostitutes here and there. Of course, It was not as if he treated them much different, they where just dolls in his possession. He'd do with them as he pleased. Whatever he pleased.

The door to his room almost closed, allowing just a little light to shine out into the dark hallway. Completely silent but for a few pleasured moans, aswell as pained ones... The motions in the room ceased, and shortly after the sound of metal clanking onto wood was heard, as a pair of shackles where undone and dropped to the floor.

Almost half past nine. A few words where exchanged before the door swung open, A younger man stepping out, still adjusting his tie and straitening his clothing. Doctor Jizabel Disraeli. Deliliahs Death card, or so he had been for the past ten days... This was precisely why he never wanted that title to be official. The violation of his mind by that sick bastard, and now... Now he was defiling even more at any chance he got.

But the Cardmasters word was law.

He swallowed, and began to make his way back to his own quarters. His legs still shaking, and that mans taste still fresh in his mouth. He took a deep breath, as more queasy feelings rose, and held his hand to his mouth fighting the urge to vomit. He drew his hand back, glancing very briefly at the red marks on his wrists where Cassandra had chained him down.

_"Disgusting..."_

He took another breath, trying to compose himself, when he heard movement behind him and turned sharply.

Cassian, a trump card, The doctors current assistant... and so far the most persistent. He froze, swallowing at the realization he'd been caught, although it didn't come as much of a shock to him. It wasn't as if he expected to follow the doctor around all evening and not be noticed.

"...How long... have you been standing there?"

The doctor received no answer from him, and the tension between them was growing ever thicker.

"...How long?" He demanded, stepping towards the 'boy'.

"...That was... Cassandra's room..." Cassian murmured, finally, letting the reality of the situation sink in. Jizabel stepped back, Cassian could just barely notice him shaking, but said nothing.

"...Yes." He murmured, his eyes wandering over the tiles on the floor, his intense nausea only growing worse.

Cassian took a few steps towards him, about to reach out when Jizabel knocked the subordinates hand away from him. Cassian withdrew his hand, ignoring any pain the doctor may have inflicted. Before Cassian could say anything more, however, Jizabel had already bolted down the hall towards his own quarters. Cassian gasped, then took a breath before following after him.

_This was going to be a long night._

TBC

--

**Chapter one is up, yaaaaaaay. This shall be a total-slash-fest-of-doom, I swear to god... That was JUST the prologue, so yeah, it's short... next chapters will be full length. Note that this fic is a writers block buster, so it may be very long and have an actual ending... Or I may get bored, and just drop it off at the end. Ehhehh... I have no obligation to finnish it...**

**but I probably will. **

**So enjoy, and R&R please. Next chapter coming... soon-ish... Oh, and the song lyrics are Green Day, a section near the end of Jesus of Suburbia.**


	2. Ugly

The morning light poured through the window of Jizabels room, casting it's calming rays over Death, aswell as the trump card who rested beside him.

Cassians eyes fluttered open, and he raised his head, squinting, to view his surroundings. Upon realizing just where he was, all recollection of the previous night returned to him, and his attention was brought immediately to the still sleeping figure lying beside him.

He sat up, stretching, though trying his best not to disturb Jizabel.

_...Just let him be... He needs a break from all of this..._

He thought, as he climbed off the bed, crossing the room and opening the window. As he pushed the two large panes apart, several of the Doctors doves descended from the neighboring trees. However, the minute they saw Cassian, they made a turn, circling back up to their roosts. Cassian leaned against the windowsill, watching them land once more on the boughs.

_...I guess they just want him._

A soft groan came from behind him, and he turned in time to see the Doctor roll over in his bed, pulling the covering farther over his head. Cassian smirked, crossing back over to him and sitting down on the edge of the bed. He rested his hand on where he assumed the doctors shoulder was, as his superior was completely buried under the blanket, and received yet another groan in response. Cassian drew his hand back, but remained where he was seated, and after a few minutes the doctor stirred, pulling the blanket down from his head.

"How did you sleep?" Cassian asked, though looking down at his own hands, rather then at the younger mans face.

"...Fine." Jizabel responded, in a tone that was barely audible.

In truth, he'd been a nervous, psychotic, wreck until eleven o'clock, tossing and turning in his sleep until one o'clock... and finally falling back to sleep beside Cassian around half past two. These events, of course, never happened. As far as anyone was concerned, last night was no different then any other night. White Owl most likely noticed some disturbance in the usually routine of things, but he told nobody. Afterall, this orchestra was not for him to interfere with, he was merely a spectator to this mad world.

Cassian smiled to himself. Jizabels disheveled appearance may have come as a surprise to people like Cain, the outside world did see him as a more pristine and somewhat foppish figure... but Cassian was used to this side of him. He'd seen it many times, infact, he couldn't count the mornings that he'd enter the doctors chambers to find him asleep against his desk, his own notes strewn all over, or an open book beneath him. He overworked himself, but Cassian knew that none of it would be good enough. He'd kill himself eventually. If he didn't bring about his own death, then his father would. That was okay, for Jizabel, at least... But not for Cassian.

The older man had been on watch for months now, ever since he realized the gravity of the situation, but nothing quite prepared him for last night. Jizabel was cold, so cold, these sick people had done their best to make him this way... and now the ice was shattering to broken glass.

Things that The Cardmaster had told him several days prior returned to his head. That mans words where always chosen so carefully, always potent and precise. At their last brief meeting his warnings where clear, He didn't want Cassian interfering... and yet... if the trump card where to somehow pull Jizabel out of the darkness that enveloped him, Cardmaster would see to it that he took away whatever light was breaking through. Even now he wasn't done destroying all that was left of his son, to him Cassian was just another tool with which to tear even further into what was left of Jizabels sanity. A death threat was the least of Cassian worries, he was more concerned about what impact it could have on Jizabel, especially so in the recent months. Those scars of his, both the physical and emotional, where being torn into and cut deeper every night... and ever since he'd first met Cain in person his hatred had been re-ignited.

Yet It was not the Cardmasters _threat_ that got to him, it was that cruel mans final statement: Cassandra was staying at their headquarters... and it seemed that Jizabel was the one to be "entertaining" their guest.

Cassian gritted his teeth, his fingernails digging into the palm of his now clenched fist, a reaction caused almost any time he thought of that perverse monster. Jizabel noticed this, and stirred.

"...Something wrong...?" he asked, in that usual tone. Cassian unclenched his fist, getting up off the bed.

"...No. Nothing... Doctor." he said quietly. Jizabel sat up, finally, pushing the blanket away from him. Cassian, however, noticed that as he did so he stifled a whimper of pain. So he did still feel something? Somehow, that almost rang out as a good sign. Almost.

"Are you... still...?" Cassian murmured, deciding it was best to not finish that question.

_"You're still in pain aren't you?"_

He merely looked up at Jizabel, as he pulled his hair up out of his face, and picked his glasses up off the nightstand.

"I'm fine." He said sharply, almost defensively, though his expression stayed monotonous. Silence fell between them as Jizabel walked to the open window, his doves flying back down, eager to see their caregiver. Cassian noticed a slight limp in his walk, for he had Jizabels actions so imprinted in his mind that he could notice even the most minute change. He knew full well who gave him those bruises and scratches, if just his gut feelings weren't enough, his assumptions had been completely vindicated last night. That sick, angry feeling was rising again. _Those bastards. Can't they spare him in some way? Must they break him into so many pieces that there is no way to mend them? If Gladstone touches him again I'll..._

"...Cassian?"

He was snapped to attention, and looked across the room. Jizabel was still at the window, with two doves on his shoulder, and three more eating from his cupped hands. Judging from the expression on his face, he had been trying to get the his subordinates attention for a few minutes.

"Yes, What-"

"Do not get involved. This is none of your concern."

Cassian, who _had_ been crossing the room to Jizabel, stopped, his eyes locking with the younger man. The Doctor turned, breaking their eye contact, and returning to his birds.

"...I'm already involved."

Jizabel didn't respond, as he continued to stroke the soft feathers of the dove that was currently resting on his hand.

"...Why can't you just stop?"

Cassian asked, then paused, not sure if the doctor was even listening. Jizabel swallowed, almost preparing himself for what was about to come, and Cassian could feel it; _Well, he was still listening_. The tension they experienced now was nothing new. Cassian took a breath before continuing.

"You can't continue like this... You're doing this to yourself, you don't have to let... You can't let him to this to you!"

Jizabel sighed, shooing the birds away from him and closing the window. Finally, after a full minute of silence, he spoke, though he still had his back to the "boy."

"I've told you. I...my loyalty to fa..." he paused, stopping himself midsentence, for such corrections had become a matter of course. "...the Cardmaster...is... Cassian, this is none of your-"

He took a breath, for he had to control himself, he would not break down. Not infront of Cassian, or anyone for that matter, especially not after last night... but everytime such conversations unfolded, the subordinates words always became harder and harder to shake from his head.

"Bollocks!"

...but his thoughts where cut off by Cassian, who, it would seem, was in far less control. Jizabel stepped back from him, but he was quicker and he reached up, grabbing the collar of the doctors robe, and pulling him towards him.

"Look... I don't give a damn what you think of _me_, but this-" He grabbed the crucifix around Jizabels neck, his grip on the chain pulling the doctor even closer, "...THIS cannot continue!"

Jizabel was silent, and he had stayed remarkably calm through all of this, although behind the mask he wore, his thoughts where racing. Cassians grip on the cross loosened, and his hand ran up from the chain, and over Jizabels neck, finally coming to rest on his cheek.

"...Jizabel," The doctors eyes narrowed, and he looked past Cassian, "...The Cardmaster won't ever give you what you want... but _I do_ love you."

His heart skipped a beat and he stepped back, knocking Cassian's hand from his face.

"You're no different then the rest of them... You place yourself on a pedestal... You think you're above my father, above Cassandra... You're not." Jizabels tone was venomous, yet hauntingly calm, and his eyes where almost completely unreadable, even to Cassian. The 'boy' took a step back, he knew what the doctor was capable of, and he also knew full well that he'd just scratched deeper into one of his existing cuts, whether he meant to or not.

"All people are the same, Cassian, and all emotions can be feigned," he continued, taking a step towards his subordinate, "...We're vile, filthy, selfish, We are _disgusting_... Love?"

His calm tone faltered, as he slammed his hand onto his desk, knocking books and jars onto the floor.

"...Do you think I believe that!? Do you believe me to be _that_ naive!?"

Cassians eyes where on the floor, on the shattered glass, and torn pages. He didn't watch Jizabel pass him and walk behind the screen that divided the room, he merely heard the footsteps. Several minutes passed, and the Doctor returned, clothed in his usual suit and coat, the collar and tie covering the cross, and the white coat to mask his dark and tattered wings. Cassian never moved from that spot, although he did finally raise his head to face the younger man once more.

"...I'm going out." he said, rather quietly, before disappearing out the door, leaving Cassian behind him...

_"I just wanted you to know... That the world is ugly, but you're beautiful to me._

_Are you thinking of me? Are you thinking of him?_

_You can say I told you so_

_If you wanted me to go._

_I just wanted you to know."_

**TBC**

--

**W00t, second chapter, but sort of the first chapter, since the last one was more of a prologue. Oh dear god, So, Cassian/Jizabel/Cassandra... with a little creepy-ness involving Alexis? Possibly, if any incestuous ideas strike me. -dies-**

**I think we may have an encounter with Cain eventually, but there will be NO Jizabel/Cain. Nope. Not here people. **

**The lyrics at the end are from My Chemical Romances "The World is Ugly" However, the song title isn't final, and who knows if the lyrics are either... So yeah, if this fic is stumbled upon years from now, and the finished version of that song is different... then that's why.**

**Thanks for reading, review, plz?**


	3. Stay

**(Note: This chapter is a direct continuation of the last chapter, unlike most my chapters, which tend to skip a few days, hours, etc)**

The door of Jizabels room closed softly behind him, as he stepped into the hallway and began his slow walk down the corridor... Of course, once he was several feet out of Cassians range, he picked up his pace, soon bolting down the large flight of stairs into the entry hall, and out the front doors of the building. The minute the doors had closed behind me he stopped, his back to the building, hoping to calm down before continuing on his way. Cassian was far too persistent, he knew too much, and God only knows what else he'd told him last night

_Damn..._

Really, he could barely remember the previous night. Cassian had been following him, he'd stumbled into his bathroom and vomited into the sink, and once Cassian came in, asking him more questions, he continued to dry heave for the next ten minutes after that... and anything before Cassians arrival where memories he'd be quite satisfied with forgetting. He would have loved to forget them.

...but naturally, The hour or so he spent in _Gladstones_ bedchambers was among his stronger memories for that week.

So there he found himself, standing outside of Delilahs current headquarters in the early morning, watching his breath infront of him in the crisp winter air, trying to repress all remembrance of any of his past run ins with Cassandra... and finally, trying his best to ignore the pain he still felt when he so much as moved. There where Cassians words again, going through his head, _pounding_ against his skull... He held his head, leaning back against the door before finally sliding down to sit on the cold front steps of the building. Everything coursing through his thoughts, over, and over... Frankly, it didn't make any sense, and he'd analyzed it through and through. Cassian had _nothing_ to gain with what he was doing. He knew full well that getting the body he wanted was out of Doctors league, at least at the moment... Hell, It wasn't as if he even knew what was wrong with that little pest, he'd only theorized so far... So aside from a brain transplant, which he'd never even attempted yet, there really weren't any options... Cassian had no reasons to help him, other then climbing to a higher position in Delilah, and even with that he certainly had no reason to show concern or...

_"love"_

Jizabel closed his eyes tightly, massaging his temples and waiting for his headache to fade. Cassians words always _seemed_ sincere, he didn't have a reason to show concern, to try to comfort him, to say he loved him... He had no motives that he could see, apart from genuine concern...

_...What are you thinking...? Father had no motives either... That was just a whim..._

_Cassian is different..._

_...How different?_

He raised his stare from the steps beneath him, up to the street, gazing into the early morning fog with blank eyes. He could just barely pick up the faint mewing of a stray cat passing through the nearby alleys. It mewled again, climbing up and over the wrought iron fence that had been impeding it, but before continuing on its way it made a detour, walking towards Jizabel. A very faint smile spread across his lips, as it rubbed against his leg, purring and crying. This smile didn't last long, however, as he ran his hand over its slender body, it's ribcage visible beneath the mangy fur that covered it. His eyebrow furrowed as it meowed again, headbutting his leg in a very expressive matter.

"...I don't have anything for you." he murmured, in a guilty tone, as the half-starved creature continued to circle him, crying. He stood, looking around, half hoping the solution would somehow magically appear before him, but when it didn't he scooped the cat into his arms, walking out to the street.

_Alright... Take him towards a butcher shop... perhaps he can get scraps..._

The thought churned his stomach, but it felt like the best idea. If only he could just ship the poor thing out to the country, it would be happier near a farm... someplace where it could have a tray of cream every morning, and mice to chase. He rubbed under its chin, and it raised it's head wanting more, which he gladly gave it, his gentle smile returning. The thought of keeping it himself had crossed his mind already... No, it hadn't crossed... it was more like it had strolled across his mind, then loitered for ten minutes before being shooed off by his more logical thoughts. He was fortunate he could even keep his birds, anything else... He knew that anything else would be taken from him, and in the worst sense of the word... Besides, even if Father would allow it, he couldn't possibly take care of it, he had higher priorities right now... And the thought of feeding it...

He cringed, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at the feline in his arms, which, in turn, looked up at him with it's large saucer eyes.

He couldn't take care of anything carnivorous, at least he didn't think he could...

_Perhaps it would eat human flesh..._

_...of course it _would_, but that's beside the point..._

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. The best thing he could do was leave it somewhere where it could access scraps easier, aswell as rodents... Still, even then there was the risk of it being killed by some rotten shop owner, or a disgusting child...

His musing continued until he reached a more bustling area of the city, and the cat squirmed in his arms, somewhat unnerved by the people around him. He stepped into an alley behind the local butcher shop, letting the cat spring out of his arms, and onto the filthy cobblestones beneath it. Without much hesitation it ran off down the alley, leaving the doctor alone.

He didn't move, as he watched it run off around a corner, and murmured something along the line of "good luck" before stepping back out into the street and making his way back towards 'home'.

The last place he wanted to be... Perhaps he could get a cab towards the Hargeaves mansion... It wasn't that long a trip, infact, who said he had to go _that far_... He could always just wander through London until he found one of them. Perhaps his dear little sister was out wandering alone again, she was such an easy target, Cain really shouldn't let his doll wander out of sight so often. Still, however tempting it was, he did have work to do. Zenopia needed him later today, granted that was in the late afternoon, and the hermit didn't care much about tardiness, but if he let himself get distracted he would most likely lose track of time. Especially if he was distracted by Cain...

...but the temptation, the lust for blood, his burning hatred... It was always so overpowering, and those fantasies of slicing out Cains eyes and putting an end to his perfection where soon replaced with dreams of slicing out his heart, and mutilating the body. His brothers life extinguished, and the torture of his existence finally coming to an end as the last drops of Cains blood spilled to the floor...

but his rationality returned, and he shuffled back down the crooked street towards the center of his nightmares...

_Cain could wait, those devious eyes could wait._

--

"You're back."

Jizabel looked up, to the top of the staircase, as he entered the building. Cassian was resting on the railing, one hand lazily twirling a knife. Jizabels vision fell from him, and he walked to the stairs, only speaking once he had climbed atleast halfway up.

"Yes? ...was I really out that long?"

Cassian shrugged, putting the knife away and sliding easily off the railing and onto the floor beneath him. He shrugged.

"...An hour or so... maybe two."

Jizabel walked past him, giving him the cold shoulder as he wandered off down the hall. Cassian opened his mouth, about to speak as he took a step to follow him... but he stopped, clenching his fists, before stepping back and returning to his seat on the rail. Jizabel stopped abruptly, though he kept his back to his subordinate.

"...You didn't follow me when I went out, either." he murmured, his as monotonous as always, but if Cassian didn't know better he'd almost say that he was hurt by this fact.

"No, I thought you wanted to be alone."

"...That doesn't usually stop you."

Silence fell between them, and Cassian slipped back off the railing and walked to Jizabels side.

"...I fixed you something to eat. You've been looking terrible lately, I thought you needed it..." Cassian said, looking up at the man, "...It's probably cold by now, I was expecting you back sooner..."

Jizabel looked past him, deep in thought. The endless pondering of Cassians motives had risen up again, and questions where once more hammering through his tired head.

"..Doctor?"

Cassian's interjection cut off his thoughts for the second time that day, and he finally turned his attention down towards him.

"...Cassian? Forget what I said this morning."

Cassian nodded, although the level of relief he felt was stronger then either of them could imagine.

"Well then, come on. I don't really know what you like, but I figured a baked potato would do, since I know you don't eat meat..."

At this point, however, as Cassian walked down the hall ahead of the doctor, Jizabel hadn't heard a word that the 'boy' had said... No, It really didn't matter what Cassian said, because maybe... Maybe he _could_ be trusted.

That was enough.

_"..And would you stay right here? _

_When I tell you that someone out there loves you. _

_Would you stay right here? _

_Well I'd tell you_

_That someone out there loves you _**after all**_."_

**TBC**

--

**Third chapter, oh yay.**

**So, happy moment, plz... Hahahah... It's the last happy moment you'll see for a long time... I kid, I kid, but seriously, there will be some darkness in the future, perhaps by the fifth chapter.**

**Anyway, song lyrics for today are 'Stay' by My Chemical Romance, and just like the last song lyrics, it's from an unreleased song, and nobody even knows the real title of it.**

**Sorry if this lacks the spellcheck power of the last one, the grammer may be fail, I was in abit of a rush to get this up on time.**


	4. Oranges and Lemons

_"Oranges and lemons," say the bells of St. Clements..._

_--_

"I'm not telling him, you."

"I'm not going in there!"

"Nobody said any of us 'ad to _go in_."

"Just go up 'n knock on the door."

"Elaine disappeared last week..."

"Oh, stop that!"

"Abigail has a point, she is the fourth one!"

"They prob'ly just left for the same reasons we want to."

"Or she's been kill-"

"You mustn't say things like that, 'tis not appropriate!"

"She's right..."

"Ah!"

The chatter of the three women came to hault, as they watched the mistress of the house pass through the main hall and into the drawing room where their guest awaited. Almost immediately they returned to cleaning, or at least faked it, for their minds where currently on much more dire tasks. Abigail brushed her dusty hands off onto her apron and blouse. She was a shorter girl with a smaller build then the rest, and wavy blonde hair. She held little command in any place, and never had, nor was she too easy on the eyes. Although, had she been born under another name and to another family, she would have been quite pretty. Alas, years of labor and worry had aged her prematurely. The other two maids stopped their mock work the minute their mistress had left the hall. As long as the job was done at the end of the day there was no issue, but slacking in anyway infront of their superiors was never good. Still, their mistress would be occupied for abit, The Earl of Hargreaves was visiting this evening. The servants of the house where all fully aware of his relationship with their mistress, It was not as if they'd blab it to anyone else, but idol gossip regarding the fairly obvious was their main way to pass the time... and as for the subject of just _who's_ child was currently cooped up in his bedroom one floor up, well, they very rarely spoke of that. Infact, they rarely spoke of their young master at all, when they could avoid it.

"Well..." Abigail murmured, shifting the weight on her feet.

Jennifer, a women several years older then the meeker Abigail, in her mid-twenties, sighed, tossing her duster at the younger girl, who caught it awkwardly as it nearly hit her in the face. She was taller, and a little stronger, her dark brown hair pulled back into a tight bun, with a few strands of loose hair falling forward into her face.

"Fine," she muttered, scowling. "I'll go tell him, but you owe me for this one, do ya' hear?"

With that, she unrolled her sleeves, which had been up to avoid getting in the way of her cleaning, and trudged up the stairs, complaining to her self.

She rapped her knuckles lightly against the door. Silence, as per usual. She considered just leaving, but they'd been given their orders several minutes ago, and if nobody went through with it there'd be trouble. She bit her lip, rapping a little harder.

"...Young master..?" She whispered, as she lowered her hand nervously from the door. A thump was heard in the room, as a clenched fist slammed down on a desk. Apparently the young man inside had been hanging on a hopeful idea of the maid _leaving_ after the first apprehensive knock. Certainly both of them would have been much happier if that had been the case.

"...I thought I told you not to disturb me." The young man remarked through clenched teeth, as he stood up from his desk. The maid gasped, stepping back from the closed door, still quite happy to have that layer of protection between her and the teenaged demon.

"Sir, The Earl Hargreaves arrived this afternoon," She responded, taking another step back. A rather chilled silence followed this, and Jennifer shifted, waiting for a response to indicate she could just leave. She heard movement in the room, as he passed to the door, stopping as his hand came to rest on the knob.

"Very well. Tell him I will be down shortly."

She gave a curt nod, though dismissed the action as silly, since he could not see her anyway, then sprinted down the hall. The young man drew his hand back from the door, swallowing. He was fully aware that..._he_ would be here, it was hardly a surprise, yet...

He swallowed, taking a few steps back and falling down onto the four-poster bed on the far side of the room. He let his eyes close, enjoying the nice silence he was able to have when the maids wheren't pestering him. Granted, every little thing they could possibly do put him on edge. He didn't like people, he hadn't for a long time. Those stupid girls where no acception. Infact, he really couldn't understand how anyone could stand it, those pathetic gnats constantly underfoot.

_"I wonder how many are pampering pathetic little Cain right this minute..."_

He scowled at such thoughts, finally sitting up, straightening his shirt and tie. He was just lying his hand on the knob again when he glanced at the cupboards under his desk that had been left opened. He swallowed, an air of paranoia settling on his shoulders, and he crossed back to the desk, kicking the door shut and shielding it's contents once more from prying eyes. He pulled the bedroom door open, slamming it behind him, before striding down the long hall. The cupboard bellow the desk hung ajar, the vibrations from the slammed door working it open again with a eerie creak. Several jars varying in size rested on the shelf inside. The dim light of the room reflecting off the glass of the nearest one, it's grisly contents peering out into an empty room...

Miss Elaine always did have such lovely eyes.

_--_

Cassian trudged into the basement, tossing a rather bloody package onto the cold table infront of him. The Doctor, who had been looking over his own papers, turned towards his assistant, raising an eyebrow and picking the object up off the table. With a glance to Cassian, he began unwrapping the worn fabric that was bundled around it, to reveal a glass jar with a bloody heart resting inside it.

"Ahh..." was all that escaped the mans lips, as he turned the jar a few times, looking at it from several angles until a rather snide smirk spread up his face.

"Well, good work, Cassian...Now... Where's the body?"

An odd silence fell between them, the jar still in Jizabels hand, although his eyes where fixed on Cassian, who'd now taken a few steps back.

"...The... body, Sir?"

Jizabels expression was almost comical, as he glanced from the jar, to his assistant, rather sternly. He rapped his fingers against the glass, before setting the jar down on the table again, and resting a hand on his own waist.

"Yes. I needed the body, Mikaila needs blood. She will only make it another day before she begins to notice the symptoms, I cannot have that. I needed a girls body."

Cassian twitched abit, for that was he detail he most certainly _did not_ remember ever hearing when he went out several hours before.

"...I cut that out of a drunk outside the tavern down the street," he said raising an eyebrow, though Jizabel had hardly given him time to respond before he whisked the jar up from the table, and placed it with his other projects.

"And I had thought you would be getting it all done at once..." He muttered, "That puts me behind schedule, Cassian. Go out and try again."

The 'boy' rested his head in his hand, exhaling, as Jizabel turned to face him with an expression indicating that getting the hell out of there was his best option. Still, after groaning and letting the hand drop away from his weary face, he drug himself over to a chair and sat, leaning back against it.

"Well?" Jizabel remarked, his patience waning.

Cassian shook his head, before crossing his legs and relaxing about as much as one could in a dark basement full of corpses and organs, whilst being stared down by one very irate young doctor.

"I'll go in abit, give me some bloody time." He remarked, as he reached into his coat, pulling out a cigarette. He paused, shuffling through his pockets, before looking back to the Doctor.

"You have any matches?" he asked, in a rather nonchalant tone. Jizabels own expression was rather vague, but he walked to a drawer on the far side of the room. He pulled it open shuffling through its contents for a moment before tossing a box of matches in the direction of his assistants head, who caught it without a second thought. Cassian shrugged, lighting the cigarette in his hand before setting the box of matches down on the cold autopsy table.

"I need that body."

"I'll be leaving in a few minutes," he remarked, taking a drag.

"If this becomes regular behavior..."

"Is anything that goes on here 'regular'?"

"That is beside the point!"

The 'boy' paused, snuffing out the cigarette on the table, leaving a smudge on the once shining surface.

"Right," he muttered, uncrossing his legs. He had thought about standing, but something about Jizabels behavior today struck him as rather queer.

"You alright, kid? Normally you don't let this sort of thing go so easy."

Jizabel glared at him as the word 'kid' escaped his mouth, although he was used to hearing it from him, that was not the way he preferred to be addressed. Yet, he was right. On most occasions Cassian would have been back out on the hunt immediately, but today he had simply given in. Death had been questioning this himself, although _he_ already knew the answer...

"Cassandra's gone, for now, right?" The 'boy' asked, with some concern.

_"Of course it's not him," _Cassian thought, afterward. Jizabels mood now was just... well, it was just more distant then usual, if that was possible. When Cassandra was around, it was more a paranoia then anything else. The pieces didn't fit there.

"No, he's gone back to his own estate," Jizabel responded, as he let his hair down and leaned against the table. "...I'm out of his schedule for the time being."

Cassian raised an eyebrow.

"His... schedule?"

"Yes," Jizabel started, despite the jesting nature of his statement, his tone was entirely serious. "... He has a very tight-knit schedule, there is only so much one can do inbetween drinking, showing off, wasting money, and defiling young boys."

He paused, taking off his glasses for a moment to wipe was appeared to be a fleck of dried blood from the lens.

"...Frankly, I'm surprised he didn't show interest in you, Cassian," He remarked, a thin smirk on his face for less then a second, as his assistant scowled.

"Ha...," the 'boy' muttered, rolling his eyes at one of the many unamusing quips he faced most everyday. But despite how tired he'd grown of such things, it was nice to have a more level conversation with him. At least they where over another hurdle. Deep down, he knew full well there would be worse problems in the future, but at least he didn't have to worry about what Gladstone was plotting. For now the sun was shining. Yes, the sun was shining even though he was about to go out and take more lives for this... _maniac_. What a bright day.

"It had to be said..." Jizabel remarked, as he raised his right hand and brushed his hair back.

"I know," Cassian muttered, shaking his head slightly, though smiling to himself. Silence fell between them as Cassian got up, stretched, and made his way to the door.

"...Today was," Jizabel stopped mid sentence, for Cassian was already at the door, but the 'boy' stopped and turned back to him.

"...Was what?"

"It's been... ten years now, since I became a part of Delilah..."

Cassian pushed the door closed again, and his hand fell from the knob.

"...That long?" He said under his breath. It shouldn't have surprised him, not in the least, yet...

"Yes. As of today... As of several hours ago," he added, glancing at the clock in the far corner of the room. "...You should be going, make it fast and clean Cassian."

He nodded in response, before pulling the door open and leaving the dimly lit cellar. Ten years. Where was he ten years ago? Cassian grimaced, as he stopped outside the door, thinking of the miserable creature he was leaving behind. But he shook his head, and hurried on. The sooner his sick work was over with, the sooner he'd be back, leaving now was the most logical course of action. Although the same images played through his mind, for ten years ago he was nearly the same age Jizabel was now, tripping through nearly the same dark abyss...

--

Jennifer descended the main stairway, where Abigail was kneeling, cleaning the rails. As she walked past the girl, she walked right over the hem of her dress, dragging her foot and tearing it quite deliberately. The younger girl turned, looking back up to Jennifer, who's hands where on her hips as she awaited a response from the meeker one. Abigail sat up, though still in a kneeling position, as she pulled her torn dress closer to her.

"You didn't have to do that!" She remarked, quite angrily. She would have to be up all night sewing, but she'd be able to fix it... Of course, her loss of needed sleep didn't seem to matter much to Jennifer. She lifted her hand, brushing a strand of hair up that had fallen down her face, then folded her arms, her foot tapping rather impatiently.

"I got his attention. You 'appy now?" She muttered, tearing the cleaning cloth from the girls hands and getting back to her own polishing.

"You mean... he's coming down? He never comes down..." Abigail bit her lip, and stood, straightening her apron. "...I'm going back to the servants quarters, Beth wanted me for something."

"Alright," Jennifer muttered, paying little attention as Abigail hurried out of the main hall. She had no doubt that she had another job to do, but she still knew full well it could have waited. She just didn't want to be here when that 'horror' arrived. Frankly, she couldn't understand Abigails blatant fear for the boy. Sure, there where the nasty rumors that spread around the servants quarters, and she herself was put on edge by his occasional outbursts, but he was no different then any other rich brat, right?

No, she knew full well he wasn't. The boy was off his rocker, and as far as the rumors where concerned... Well, she didn't want to be on his bad side. Beth was a women who'd worked under the family for many years, and on a number of occasions she claimed to recall a time when he was "sweet"... but it wasn't as if that automatically made him a good person now.

A tap was heard behind her, as a foot stepped down onto the last step, pausing there, instead of going on. Jennifer turned slowly, her thoughts broken, as she came to look at the sixteen yearold master whom she served.

"Haven't you been here all day. Don't you have anything better to do beside fuss over _every_ last spec of dust..."

"...Good afternoon, Sir." She remarked, giving a slight curtsy to the boy infront of her. Now that she thought of it, this was the first time she'd actually seen him in several days, not to say he looked any different then he had then. He was still thin, Beth had claimed that his weight had dropped in the past years, though she knew nothing of that herself. He still had that sickly look to him, though from what the other housemaids had said, he'd always had health problems, and that they'd actually _improved_ in recent years. He continued to glare at her, those amethyst eyes piercing through her and freezing the room, as he brushed his hand up through his shoulder length blonde hair.

She watched his every action, Every little detail catching her eye... From the detached expression he always wore... To the streaks of greys and silvers in his hair, that only the light from the chandelier seemed to ever pick up. Just another one of the unnatural things about the youth, none of the hired help where quite sure _what _had lead to that fluke, but the greying tones had been slowly replacing that healthy blonde from almost two years now.

"...What are you staring at?" He remarked, with a sour expression as he strode past her. She exhaled, as he stepped into the mainhall, and headed off towards the drawing room. _Thank god that's done with. _She continued to watch him for a moment, now at what felt like a safe distance, before strolling off to her next job...

Jizabel stared wistfully at the drawing room door, as his hand ran over the wood before finally coming to rest on the knob. Nothing ever stayed simple, did it? He closed his eyes, as he leaned in and pressed an ear to the door.

"...and at this point, I think it's time we..." there was a pause in Alexis' speech, and Jizabel froze, his heart racing as he heard the man move across the room. _Did he... Know?_ He closed his eyes tightly, unable to move as he felt the door pulled open and away from him, and before he knew it he'd stumbled forward into the open doorway.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop, Jizabel," Alexis remarked, a smirk on the corner of his mouth as he raised his pipe to his lips. The boy raised his head, his right hand gripping the edge of the doorway for support, as he met with his fathers cold eyes. He broke free of that gaze as soon as possible, turning his attention instead too his mother, who was standing silently in the corner with a hand on her chin and her usual distant expression. Of course, the second he looked at her she turned around, taking her focus off of him. This didn't surprise him, She never looked at him. Never.

"You've gotten taller, haven't you?" Alexis remarked, gesturing towards him in an unnaturally casual matter. He was always this way, even when he'd left his son in a broken mass, his dreams shattered, two years prior... That day, he was just the same. As was he on the occasions he came to visit him in the years to come.

No matter what had happened the last time they'd seen eachother, no matter what things he had planned for his child later in the day... No matter what, it was that same sickening, casual air. As if everything was just fine.

"What's wrong, Jizabel? You don't seem pleased to see me? I was expecting more. Afterall, it's been so long, boy."

It had been. Almost six months. Yes, It _had_ been six months since the last time his father had built up his hopes, just the slightest, then crushed them again, leaving him a bloody, wailing heap on the basement floor. He cringed, the thought alone being enough to send waves of pain over the scars on his back. He bit his lip. So here they where again. The same old pattern was about to repeat itself, wasn't it? He shuddered, as he felt Alexis' hand on his shoulder, pulling him into the room.

"Come in, There is something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

How could he act like this? How could he act so normal after everything he'd done? ...and mother. What did she care? Didn't she know? Of course not, she avoided him as much as the servants, especially now...

Alexis turned to the woman, and there was a very brief exchange of words, though it was all flying over Jizabels head. She gave a nod, before walking towards the door, but not without laying her hand on her sons shoulder. He turned, glancing up to her, just to see her close her mouth and turn away. Her graceful hand dropped to her side, and she continued to the door, closing it softly behind her.

_Was she going to say something?_

It didn't matter. She didn't. All that mattered now was father... The man smirked, sitting down on the loveseat, continuing to smoke his pipe. Jizabel remained standing, although he made his way quietly around the room, never taking his eyes off of his father, watching him no differently then a sheep would watch a wolf prowling on the other side of the fence. No, the drawing room door had been closed behind him. The wolf had gotten in.

"Jizabel, I think it's time I introduced you to... my work."

He remarked, exhaling as smoke filled the room.

--

"Yes, I'll take care of it!"

Jennifer turned with a spin, her dress flowing slightly, as she strolled down the hall on her way to the kitchen, a basket under her left arm, and her right arm hanging free. There was a slight skip to her step that evening, the problems she'd faced earlier in the day long past... Or so she had thought. Reaching the end of the hall, and almost to the kitchen she tripped on the hem of her dress, sending half of her baskets contents spilling onto the floor.

"Damn." She remarked, biting her lip as she kneeled to pick a fresh orange up off the floor, only to find the fruit had rolled to the feat of a certain individual she'd thought she'd seen the last of that day.

"Harsh language," Jizabel remarked, leaning against the wall. She scowled, as she grabbed the oranges, lemons, and various other fruits off the floor, murmuring a small apology while she set them back in her basket, although she did not mean it.

"What are those for?" He muttered, pointing towards her basket.

"...The cook requested them for some of tonights courses... Will you be coming down for dinner this evening, Sir?" She asked, picking the basket back up and gripping it under her arm once more.

"No."

His answer was firm, she could go so far to say it was spoken with disgust, and although she had little clue to the reason, she knew it was best to leave it at that. With a kind nod, she went to pass him. However, he stepped infront of her yet again, blocking the hallway as he leaned against the slender arm he had rested on the wall.

"...S-sir?"

The tension rose, and her heartbeat picked up speed, as he stepped closer to her. Her eyes widening as she noticed the metallic glint of a thin object he'd drawn from his vest pocket.

"...I think that's enough, Jennifer."

A long scream rang through the mansion, as a blood splattered basket fell to the floor, oranges and lemons rolling across the empty hall...

_"Here comes a candle to light you to bed,_

_and here comes a chopper to chop of your head._

_Chip, chop._

_Chip._

_CHOP."_

_--_

**Hi guys! Oh yay! It's chapter four! This is the longest one, so far, It probably will stay the longest one for quite awhile. I've had this idea in my head for awhile, a section that was just more Jizabel centric, and not really in the best way. In a morbid way. I used Oranges and Lemons because I wanted to do something Yuki-esque here, keeping with the roots of the manga, so I used a nursery rhyme. Like all good nursery rhymes, it has nice, creepy, grim roots. Isn't that wonderful? Because I used Oranges and Lemons, this is the only chapter in this fic that won't include song lyrics, instead we get... creepy childrens song lyrics. Goody. So, to clarify, in these flashbacks it's been about two years since the whole thing with Snark occurred, I placed his age at about 16. xP**

**Yes, he's already killin' peoples.**

**I like writing maids. I've had them in several stories of mine, something about meek, and sometimes bitchy young women makes me happy. xD I'm sorry to all the feminists out there, all the maids I've created and killed in the history of my fiction, and fanfiction, must upset them. I rather like Jennifer, although I know enough about her to think of her as a rather nasty girl on most occasions.**

**Next chapter gets a rating boost, OH NOES. Dx**


	5. It Goes By The Name of London

**(The following chapter contains explicit content and a very unhappy Jizabel, to say the least. Read with caution.)**

_"I think that's enough... Jennifer."_

Blood flowed in a weak stream between the cobblestones and out of the dark alleyway. A heartbeat slowed, the color faded from her doll-like skin, and her hand fell to her side, her last movements insignificant as the blackness fell over her. Nobody would miss her. No more then they'd missed the countless souls before her. Afterall, they'd never missed Jennifer, they'd never missed Elaine, and he was most certain that nobody missed the man he'd first let his knife slide into, the man father had drug in off the street for some experiment or another.

This was work. He needed a new test subject, it was a clean kill, not a flight of fancy or a moments entertainment. He kneeled beside her, running his finger slowly, and almost whimsically, over the gash he'd left in her beautiful neck.

She was still a rat, no matter how beautiful she was... What where rats? Pathetic rodents scurrying all about londons streets, feasting on garbage, spreading disease? A pest, a blemish on an otherwise beautiful world...? How hypocritical... Of course, aren't all people.

_"We're no different... No, we're worse...."_

He slid the bloodied scalpel back into his coat pocket, running his hand further down and around the nape of her neck, lifting her head up from the filthy street. Those eyes, although those eyes where now like glass, and as emotionless as a broken doll, the warmth hadn't left her body. It wasn't his. This was how it always was, he only received the dying embers, never a passionate inferno. In twelve hours she'd already be cold... How he longed to slice into her supple flesh, to bring her organs to the surface and hold her warm heart in his hands so soon after it's beating had ceased.

He shuddered, as he ran his hand across her corseted chest, his fingers sliding under the ties that held the front of her dress together, as his other hand reached into his pocket. The noise of shredding fabric broke the silence, shortly followed by the sound of the bloodied scalpel dropping from his hands.

_"...No."_

...But despite his better judgement his hand was already making its way down her now bare chest. Really, It would only take one cut, one thin slice, and he knew she wasn't that pretty on the inside. Yes, the one thing that made everyone the same.... All the same, deep... down... inside...

"My god, you never cease to amuse me."

A shiver ran down his spine as his hand froze, pulling away from the body. That voice... He really couldn't begin to count the things he hated about that man...

"You really are aroused by that?"

Jizabel turned his head slowly, to face Cassandra as he leaned against the cold bricks at the entrance of the alley. He chuckled unfolding his arms and crossing towards the younger man.

"...I simply can't imagine what you must do when you're all alone with nothing but those organs and lifeless corpses for company... Oh, but don't let me interrupt you, It's plain to see that-"

"What was it that you wished to see me about?"

His words where short, he was not in the mood to play Cassandra's game, he was _never_ in that mood, to be perfectly frank.

"Rather harsh, I would say. I had been looking for you earlier but," he paused, scowling as a rat scuttled by his foot, "...but The Hermit informed me you where out."

He scowled as another rat made a dash down the alley, and into the dark. His frown deepened even more as his eyes came to rest on the young woman's corpse.

"God, how can you live like this..." He remarked with an air of disgust, though more to himself than anyone else.

Jizabel picked the scalpel up from the ground sliding it into his pocket with a shaky hand before standing and brushing the dirt and grime from his coat.

"From now on, I would appreciate if you _not_ follow me out." He turned, to face him, his tone as monotonous as ever. There was still time to get out of this mess of a situation, as long as he remained calm and-

Cassandra's hand firmly gripped Jizabels shoulder, as he leaned in inches from the younger mans ear. Jizabel fought back a shudder as he felt Cassandra's hot breath on his neck.

"Now, now... I just wanted to have a word with you."

Although he was looking away from him, wanting desperately to pull away, he could tell Cassandra had smiled after those words. He could always feel when that smirk spread up his face. His grip on the Doctor tightened.

"...I haven't the time for that. It is crucial that I get that back to the morgue before rigor mortis sets in..."

He frowned inwardly. He didn't have to, what he was doing didn't require _that_ fresh a corpse. Besides, what had he been thinking? An excuse like that wasn't enough to throw Cassandra off. He could work under pressure, he could get out of most situations if he so needed, but this was different...

The older mans rough grip spun Jizabel around, pushing him roughly against the closest wall, the wet, grimy surface of the bricks staining his white coat. A gasp escaped his throat as Cassandra nudged his knee between the younger mans legs, pinning him in a most undignified position. His face flushed, as that devilish grin came over Cassandra's lips, the overwhelming scent of cologne, as he lowered his head and planted several rough kisses on Jizabels neck, clouding his senses.

"It looks to me that you have time, _Jizabel_," He remarked, as he grinded against him, eliciting a short moan from the doctor. _Jizabel... _The nerve he had. Nobody called him by his name... Doctor, Death, Any of his countless aliases, but _how dare_ he be as brash as to call him that. Only father had that right, father and...

_Cassian._

However, these thoughts where short lived, as Cassandra's lust made itself apparent. He raised his right hand from Jizabels shoulder, brutally gripping the younger mans hair to pull him closer into a rough kiss. Another whiff of cologne, followed by the lingering scent of tobacco, and perhaps a trace of opium. He choked, as the older man pushed his tongue into his mouth. Tobacco? Perhaps he'd imagined that. He winced at the thought, Yes, he had to have imagined that... It was fathers scent, his alone...

Cassandra pulled back from his mouth, using his forefinger to wipe the saliva from his lips in a rather provocative way.

"...and I am correct, am I not?"

Jizabel turned his head away from him, at least to the best of his ability. He hated that mans eyes, and Cassandra knew it. He wouldn't give him that gratification. Receiving no answer, he ran his left hand, for his right was still entwined in Jizabels tresses, down the younger mans body. Jizabel bit his lip, holding back a cry as Cassandra came to stop just at the waste of his trousers.

"Not. Here." Jizabel said, through gritted teeth, as he felt the older man slide his fingers back up to his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. His words where, at this point, far more a demand than a plea. He closed his eyes tightly, swallowing as Cassandra pushed the white coat down from his shoulders, letting it drop onto the muddy ground, before sliding his cold hands up under his shirt, dancing over every sensitive area. He leaned over, his greasy chocolate hair brushing against Jizabels neck, as his lips lingered beside his ear.

"Don't say a word."

God, how he hated that voice. Cassandra chuckled, though it was barely audible as he gave a quick lick over the younger mans earlobe. Silence fell between them, the cold fall air chilling Jizabels skin, especially where Cassandra had kissed him.

"...Your heart's racing, Jizabel," he remarked, breaking the silence. His comment only causing an involuntary shudder, as the doctors heart began to pound even harder, to a point he felt it could burst any moment. Those cold hands fell again, wandering slowly down his slim waste, leaving goosebumps in their wake until they finally came to rest on his belt, fumbling with the buckle. His blush deepened, a short whimper escaping his pale lips before he attempted to pull away, only to get a foot away from him before being brutally shoved back against the wall, pushing his face against the bricks. He winced, knowing that move had only made the situation worse, as Cassandra tore his shirt off, brushing his long hair aside as he malevolently ran his fingers up and down over Jizabels back, smirking at the scars littering his otherwise perfect skin.

"You like the abuse... Don't you?"

His eyes widened, the question itself stinging, as Cassandra ran his tongue over one of his fresher scars. His body betrayed him, as an half pained, half aroused moan escaped his lips. He cringed, but it was apparent Cassandra has noticed. He laughed, as his hands returned to Jizabels trousers to continue there previous task.

"My, my, You're _quite_ the masochist..."

"...Not here... not... here..." he whimpered. Now it was pleading, however much it pained him to admit it. Why? Not even father could get so much as a whimper out of him, yet Cassandra... Cassandra practically controlled him. Cassian was right. They where both pathetic and disgusting, Cassandra to do the things he did, and himself to let it go on. Cassian was always right, wasn't he...?

"...Don't move."

Jizabel whimpered, as the last of his clothing dropped to the ground.

"...As long as you don't make a fuss, it's not as if anyone will find us..." Cassandra's right hand ran agonizingly slowly up the younger mans inner thigh, finally coming to rest-

"...Hmm... You _are_ aroused? ....That's... interesting."

He digged the fingernails of his left hand into Jizabels back, tearing open several of his newer scars, before pushing him roughly to the ground...

----

_Several nights prior_

"That was.... Cassandra's room..."

Jizabel backed away, his eyes on the floor as his knee's shook under him, barely able to keep himself standing.

"...Yes...." He gave a nervous glance to his subordinate, if not for a second, before lowering his gaze back to the floor. He could hear Cassian breathing, hear him take several cautious steps closer. He raised his hand to his mouth, as his last meal rose to his throat, and he made a mad dash back to his own room, stumbling down the hall before regaining abit of composure and making it to his bedroom. He awkwardly tripped over the empty jars and notes strewn on the floor, before falling into the bathroom, barely making it to the basin before heaving up his dinner. He sobbed, weekly holding himself over the sink before gagging up more, his hair already caked with sweat and vomit. Anything was better then Cassandra's taste, anything. He could hear them, ever so faintly, the footsteps making their way to the door. They stopped for a moment, at about the same time he lowered his head, dry heaving over the sink. Then they moved, at a much faster pace, to stand beside him. He didn't need to look up, no, he didn't even _want_ to. A pair of hands reached over to him, pulling his hair up and holding it out of his way, as he continued to gag until blood splattered on the bathroom tiles.

"...How long?" Cassian said, solemnly, before fetching a towel and wiping off his face. He couldn't stand being treated that way, yet he did nothing to push him away. Cassians tone was relatively calm, although it was only his own mask, a mask much stronger then Jizabels.

"How long?" He repeated, a few minutes later. What kind of tone was it? Like a concerned, almost angry, father asking of his daughters liaisons? Or was it the jealously of a suitor...? Neither, no, it was neither...

"It...has been...." As he spoke, his death grip on the sink loosened, and he slid to the floor, his legs practically collapsing beneath him. He choked back a sob, as he leaned against the wall, as far from Cassian as he could get in such a small space. "...S-several days...."

How could that brat see him like this? Too vulnerable, he was the only one who'd ever seen him this vulnerable, this weak and pathetic, Or at least the only one who'd seen him this way and not contributed to his suffering. Another wave of nausea hit him, and he keeled over coughing. The look of concern in Cassians eyes at this point was overwhelming, but Jizabel had seen none of it. He only felt the smaller hands continue to hold his hair up, and rest on his shoulder, he only heard Cassians shushing noises and his own heaving. Silence fell between them, as Jizabel finally stopped gagging, and fell back into Cassians arms, wanting nothing more then to sleep, then to lay enveloped in that warmth forever. Needless to say, he was feeling absolutely terrible to admit such feelings to himself, and Cassian knew he was a wreck to have not shooed him from the room in the first place. Cassian held him close for the next minute, almost petting him, as a weak stream of tears fell from his porcelain face, a few sobs breaking the harsh silence. Cassian bit his lip, his frustration mounting. This had tipped the scale drastically, and what had begun as a minor irritation had turned to a strong hatred. How had this even happened? A month ago he would have killed this doctor, yet... How could the broken creature in his arms possibly be the same demon he'd been assigned to work under? This man was a fallen angel, but he was certainly not Lucifer.

Several droplets fell down Cassians own face, landing on Jizabels shoulder, though he didn't notice. Cassian one bit his lip, he hadn't cried in years and _he_ triggers it? He, however, had much less fear of weakness, at least in this aspect, so he merely bit his lip and blamed his tears on Jizabel. _One person cries, everyone does. It is no different than yawning. _

Cassian carefully stood, pulling Jizabel up with him, although the height difference did make this somewhat awkward.

"Let's just... Let's get you cleaned up, alright?" Cassian said, reaching his hand out to take Jizabels. He said nothing, did nothing, except to weakly pull his hand free of Cassians.

"...D-doctor?" The 'boy' paused, still receiving no answer...

"Jizabel?" He was more careful that time, and Jizabel could tell it, Cassian rarely addressed him this way.

"...Don't treat me like a child. I'm not," he finally responded, weakly. Cassian reached for his hand once more, this time keeping a tighter grip on it, and not letting him pull away, which he didn't anyway. A small, mellow, smile spread over Cassians face.

"I won't, if you won't." he said, as Jizabel turned to face him again, the young doctor returning the smile in a much frailer matter.

"...Well, let's just get the bile out of your hair."

He nodded weakly in response, As Cassian prepared a bath for his fallen angel...

----

Cassandra groaned, as he finally pulled out of the weaker of the two. Jizabel exhaled silently, his breath showing in the cold air before him as he finally relaxed his hands, although the marks still showed in his palm where his nails had dug in, his fists clenched tightly as Cassandra thrust into him.

A faint dripping sound was the only thing breaking the silence, as his own blood dripped into the alley, the re-opened cuts on his back bleeding profusely. He heard Cassandra shuffle behind him, straightening his own clothing. Wasn't that easier for him? Yes, he could just leave now. Just leave him there to bleed and lay in his own-

"Well? You can get up now?" He remarked, leaning against the wall closest to him, watching him quite intently. He raised his head feebly, glaring daggers at the filth standing beside him.

"Now don't act that way, You enjoyed yourself," he remarked, his face of beaming with a sort of sickened pride, as he pointed to the ground beneath the doctor, "...Afterall, You reached your climax roughly the same time I did..."

He cringed. He already knew that, he didn't have to told, damn, it was the last thing he wanted to be told.

"...You where thinking of your father weren't you? I know you cannot stand me, you had to have been thinking of someone else."

His hand slowly balled into a fist again, with each word that spilled from Gladstones unfiltered mouth. Was that true? He shuddered. Of course it wasn't true, that wasn't how he viewed Father, that wasn't how he viewed anyone.... How could he even pause to think that Cassandra was right? After about a minute of waiting for a response, Cassandra kneeled beside him, jerking his head up by his hair to bring them face to face. Jizabel looking away from him, his steely eyes gazing blankly down the alleyway. Cassandra scowled, pushing him back down against the filthy cobblestone.

"You made quite the mess here Jizabel, you should have been thinking about that when you chose to enjoy yourself..." He smirked, resting his foot on Jizabels head, holding him down. He winced, knowing exactly what Cassandra wanted. Humiliation at it's finest. He took a breath before lowering his tongue to the dirty stones. Cassandra smirked triumphantly, refusing to lift his boot until things where as spotless as he wanted them. He stood above him, arms crossed as he looked down on the little show before him.

"...Remember how I wanted to speak with you earlier?" He didn't expect a response, infact, if he'd gotten one he would have prolonged this little torture session, "...It was regarding your fathers recent orders. It seems we have some work that needs done in the next week, I requested that you accompanied me."

He lifted his foot from the doctor, allowing him to lift his head up again.

"...and?" He muttered, sick, miserable, tired, and at this point just wanting it all the end.

"He was quite fine with that idea, actually, I would go as far to say he supported it. I told him awhile ago that we're quite good together. That I would get much more done with your support.... Besides, Zöe becomes quite the bore after awhile ..."

"...Shut your miserable-"

Jizabel's words where cut off by a sharp pain, waves of agony starting in his head, but almost spreading through his whole body. He winced, realizing there was blood dripping from his forehead and he was now several feet away from his adversary. His head was spinning, and watching Cassandra approach him, jerking him up by the hair once more, he realized that he'd just received a rather hard kick to the head.

"Don't trifle with me, _Death_, I think you're much more disposable then I am."

_We'll see about that._

He let go of him, walking away until he reached the edge of the alley, where he turned, before stepping out.

"I would hurry up and get dressed, before someone comes down this way." With that, he unfolded his arms and strode down the cobbled street.

Several minutes later Jizabel stood, leaning on the closest wall for support as he pulled his coat on over the rest of his clothes. He glanced at the long forgotten body he'd left on the ground. Forget her, he was hardly in a state to bring her back to Delilah now, besides... He gripped the edge of his coat, wrapping it abit tighter around him then usual, feeling extremely vulnerable.

It was best that he return before Cassian started to get suspicious.

_"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit,  
and the vermin of the world inhabit it,  
and its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit...  
and it goes by the name of London."_

----

**Oh. My. God. Do you know how effing hard that was? Very hard... and it wasn't even THAT explicit... Blarg, that was terrible. It was terrible for me, it was terrible for you, your eyes probably burnt out... but it had to be written. Ehh.... Anyway, that was the rating elevation I mentioned, err, the first one. The lyrics are from Sweeny Todd today. I've had a Sweeny Todd rush for the past few days. I listened to both the original cast, the revival cast, and the movie. My favorite right now is the revival, with Patti LuPone and Michael Cerveris. In 2006 I saw them perform it, and even got my poster signed by them. The above lyric is followed by "At the top of the hole sit the privileged few, Making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo, turning beauty to filth and greed..."**

**Somehow, I feel like those lyrics right there fit Cassandra rather well....Anywho, Shout outs to Sorryll, DarkAngelJudas, Savvi-Sin, xof course im weirdx, and everyone else involved in the CassianxJizabel invasion of FF. Dear God. The stuff we like it starting to outnumber Cain and Riff, at least on the front page.**


	6. Hold On

**(Okay, authors note: The flashback in this chapter is a continuation of the flashback in the last chapter, which takes place around the events in the very first chapter of this fic... Sooo... yeah... )**

Cassian yawned, rubbing his temples as he walked down the long hall. It was much too early for this, then again, it was his own problem that he hadn't gotten used to it. He was a night owl, always had been. He grumbled something under his breath before roughly pulling the iron door open and stepping into the cold, steely room. He looked around for a moment, surprised to see no sign of Jizabel.

_"Strange, I thought he'd been working on something..."_

There was a clatter of metal, and a few blatantly angered remarks from the left of him. He leaned his neck around the door, to see Doctor Zenopia tripping out of the supply closet. He was carrying a rather large and sharp instrument, it's purpose unknown to Cassian, and frankly he had little desire to know.

"Ah! Cassian," He remarked, setting it down on the table before crossing to the door with an eccentric smile. There where times when Cassian questioned _just how_ this man had come to reside here, but he always dismissed those thoughts for fear the answer would put him a queasy state. He held out a gloved hand, with abit of blood splattered over his fingers, which Cassian reluctantly shook.

"Oh, Come over here, I've compiled my statistics on..."

And so the rambling began. Once The Hermit had his mind set on something, he was often able to find the answer... And once he found the answer, he would happily tell anyone who came in at the wrong time. It was one of the many things Cassian had gotten used to. Zenopia and Jizabel where at the top of their field, yet they couldn't be more different. Zenopia's short, stout, appearance drastically countered the Doctors physicality, as did his terrifyingly upbeat personality. Cassian knew that Jizabel was as distant from him as everyone else, yet... It was plain to see that their common interests brought them together, and despite the occasional disagreement they worked quite well with eachother, it was rather astonishing what their combined knowledge often produced. One of the many horrors of Delilah was how well greased a machine she was was. Zenopia paused, glancing up from his papers at Cassian.

"Hmmm... but you aren't interested in any of this, are you?" His tone was someone disappointed, but not surprised in the least. He paused, turning back around to pull some files out of a nearby drawer.

"Well, I have the results for you, at least..."

...And with that, his questions of where Jizabel had gotten off to where pushed roughly to the back of his head.

-----

Cassian sat in the chair across from Zenopia, his eyes staring at the tiles on the floor, Pointlessly examining every crack and blood stain.

"...So...That's just it, then?"

Zenopia nodded, rubbing his chin before standing up himself, setting his papers back in the drawer and pushing it closed. Cassian stood aswell, about to leave before he was held back by the strange man.

"Don't loose hope, There's still the... other option...," That odd grin lit up his face again, as he pet the head of the large hound beside him. Although, considering the height of them both the shaggy canine wasn't all that big.

Cassian frowned at Zenopia's statement. Yes... That was an option, though one he was not sure he was willing to take... Yet. There really was no winning for him. No sane doctors could wrap their heads around his case, yet Delilah... Delilah was so ahead of themselves that they skipped over any 'minor ailments'.

Then again, had they ever been about changing lives? No, not in _that_ aspect of the term, at least.

"Look at this research data...We've yet to test it out on a human yet... Well, ha, I suppose we haven't tested it out on anything yet," He added, with a shrug, "Death doesn't approve of that sort of thing, you know....Of course, if it succeeds it would shake the world, it would...."

He was rambling again, and really, it wasn't so much rambling as it was that Cassian hadn't the faintest idea what he was even really talking about. Especially when he got technical. Cassian smiled to himself, at The Hermits earlier comment. In Jizabels perfect little world, of course there wouldn't be animal testing. He found it rather funny, actually, that they'd have achieved _anything_ with only limited human test subjects, but still... The Cardmaster had raised the dead, with that nothing seemed like a far stretch.

"...Are you talking of that grotesque research of transplanting ones brain into another body?"

They turned, finally noticing Cassandra standing by the door with a smug look on his face. Cassians eyes narrowed, and his hand slid into his pocket, gripping one of his knives tightly.

"Hah, A brain transplant? Well, I wouldn't expect much else from the two of you, an old man with not much time left and.... The man, trapped in a childs body." He chuckled to himself, finding his own jests rather amusing. Cassian had noticed him do that before, he was always rather talented at keeping himself entertained.

"It may not seem like much to you, High Priest Cassandra, but-"

Cassandra scoffed, holding up his hand in a silencing motion.

"You needn't explain yourself, I could care less..." He looked down, coming eye to eye with Cassian and gave a short grin. Oh, if only he could just tell him all the vivid details of what he'd done last night... No, that would have to wait.

"...You're envious of me, aren't you?" He said with a vain air. Cassian grumbled something under his breath in disgust, but Cassandra failed to notice and continued his talk.

"...I understand why, afterall, it's not as if you can ever succeed in the art of seduction, the opposite sex isn't going to care much for a child," Cassians death grip on the blade tightened, as Cassandra ran his hand through his own hair, pushing it up from his face, "...Of course, you're not interested in the opposite sex, are you?"

That was it, He lunged forward, his knife sliding up to Cassandra's neck in a heartbeat, seconds away from slicing his throat. Zenopia, who had been putting up quite the fuss in the background, stepped forward, laying a hand on Cassians shoulder.

"If a trump card attacks their superior his life is forfeit. You know that."

Cassians heavy breathing slowed, and he lowered the knife, never taking his eyes off of Cassandra's smug expression. Once he'd slid the knife back into his coat, Cassandra turned on heal, strolling out of the room.

"Oh... Cassian?"

The 'boy' turned back to the doorway. Cassandra has stopped, though he didn't bother looking back at the subordinate.

"That superior you think you're protecting is staying with me," A sick grin spread up the corner of his mouth, "You... won't be hearing from him in awhile."

With that, he continued his walk down the hallway.

"...He said nothing of that to me!!" Cassian yelled harshly after him.

"That would be because... You don't _need_ to know." By this point, he had turned a corner and was out of site. A few drops of blood fell to the tile floor from Cassians hand, as his own nails broke the skin of his clenched fists.

"...That was a good choise," The Hermit remarked, stepping towards, "The man's not worth it."

Cassian let his hands fall open, finally, his heart slowing as he stepped back and fell into the closest chair. Was Cassandra not worth it? To him, it seemed worth the risk. The humiliation that bastard had caused him, the pain he'd been causing Jizabel...

_Jizabel?!?_

_"That superior you think you're protecting is staying with me, You won't be hearing from him for awhile."_

Cassian stood abruptly, almost knocking the chair over as he did so.

"Damn!" With that, he fled the room without another word, running down the hall and towards Jizabels quarters...

-----

Cassian pulled a towel off the closest shelf, rather irked that he had to stand on his toes to reach it. Without a word he marched out of the small bathroom, and tossed it onto Jizabels head, proceeding to pat dry as much of the mans hair as he could... A rather monotonous task, considering the length of it. Jizabel raised a hand, batting him away.

"Don't bother, It will dry on it's own."

Jizabel was sitting quietly on the edge of his bed, a book in one hand, the other hand holding his kimono closed in an almost paranoid fashion. Cassian wasn't sure if he was even reading the book.

"You'll come down with a cold..."

"I don't care."

Silence fell between them, as Cassian pulled the damped towel down from his head, meekly obeying him, though his better judgement always told him not to. Jizabel turned a page on the book, although his eyes never moved as one would if they where actually reading. Cassian leaned over infront of him, pulling the novel from his hand and tossing it to the foot of the bed. His expression didn't change. Cassians eyes narrowed, and he got up from where he was sitting on the bed, moving to stand right infront of the younger man.

"...Quite acting like you're all alone, because you're not. I'm here."

Cassian reached his hand out, running it gently across Jizabels cheek before lifting his head up to face him.

"...I'm here," he repeated sincerely, a desperate look in his eyes. Jizabel finally brought his own cold eyes to meet Cassians, his expression as solemn as ever, but with abit more emotion then normal.

"...I..I know," He swallowed, fighting back another wave of tears as he pushed Cassian away from him. He didn't _want_ to feel this way, and he didn't _want_ Cassian to see him like this... Granted, from what Cassian had witnessed earlier it was too late for that. Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn't it all just _end_? He bit his lip, several salty droplets falling onto his lap. Cassian sat down beside him again, resting a hand on his shoulder just as a nervous smile formed on the younger mans face. "....I...I'm a complete... m-mess tonight, aren't I?" He murmured. Once more, Cassian lifted his hand up, turning Jizabels head to face him.

"Don't worry about that."

Jizabel didn't draw away from him this time, and instead leaned forward, resting his head on Cassians small chest.

"...I..." He sobbed, as he weakly wrapped his arm around the older man, "...I...._hate_ you..."

His words where more of a choked whisper then anything else, but Cassian heard them rather clearly. Cassian remained silent, trying to think of the best response, but when no such response came to him he simply returned the embrace, pulling Jizabel closer to him.

"....I don't understand," Jizabel whispered, burying himself in Cassians warm shirt. The older man sighed, shaking his head.

"...I don't either. I really don't." He remarked, honestly, as he stroked the younger mans damp hair.

"...Why... are you doing this...?"

Cassian didn't respond. Frankly, the question didn't need an answer, it was fairly obvious, although Jizabel wanted one desperately. Finally Cassian spoke, though not giving the answer that the Doctor had longed for.

"I told you earlier that I wouldn't treat you like a child anymore... Maybe you're right about people, because... I lied. I can't stop treating you like something you are... I can't just...."

He stopped, when he realized that the whimpers and sobs had ceased, and he looked down to see that Jizabel had simply fallen asleep in his arms. He swallowed, somewhat perplexed, and overall worried to have seen the Doctor in this state to begin with, but nevertheless...

He carefully sat up, gently lying the doctors head on the bed, and laying a blanket over him. He walked over to Jizabels desk, removing the chair from beside it and setting it down by the bed. He paused, thinking for a moment before bending over and picking the book he'd taken from Jizabels hands up off the floor, flipping it over to look at the title.

Paradise Lost.

He yawned, opening it to the first page and starting to read, every so often glancing to the doctor, only to find him just the way he was five minutes ago. He wouldn't leave him tonight, he didn't want to leave him at all anymore, whether it was paranoia or natural instinct. Right now he was exhausted, wanting nothing more then to climb into that bed beside him and get some much needed rest... Yet he couldn't bring himself to sleep, not yet. So he sat back and read. Half an hour passed before a distressed cry came from the bed, and he tossed the book down, standing abruptly and leaning over to find that Jizabel was still asleep, although it was much less restful then it had been before. He sat back down on the bed, laying a cautious hand on his shoulder, unsure whether to wake him or leave him be. He lifted the blanket, pulling it up to cover Jizabel again, for he had tossed it off in this sleep, and after a few minutes of silence the worst of that particular nightmare seemed to have passed. Cassian gently ran the back of his hand across the doctors face, and, surprised by how cold it was, laid down beside him, pulling him close. He was still rather deep in sleep, Though Cassian had decided that if another dream like that where to occur, he'd awaken him, although he hoped his superiors slumber would be restful for the remainder of the night.

_Even in your dreams they're still hurting you..._

"I won't let him touch you again."

He said, before sitting up and blowing out the candle on the night stand.

-----

Cassian stepped cautiously into the doctors room, eying everything from his work desk, to his bed, to the kimonos strewn carelessly over his dresser. He always felt strange in here, and at the moment he couldn't decide if it felt worse when he was alone in here with Jizabel, or now, although in both occasions he just felt like an unwanted disturbance. Nothing seemed to have been moved, and he felt like leaving it at that. Perhaps Cassandra had just been trying to get to him... but why would Cassandra lie about that? He wouldn't, there was no way he would. Cassian swallowed, closing the door behind him and crossing over towards his superiors desk, shuffling through the drawers to find that nothing had been moved... Closing the drawer roughly, he continued to Jizabels nightstand, a grim expression coming over his face. The spare pare of reading glasses that usually stayed on that small table was missing, as where the various scalpels and other medical instruments that used to call this room home. He swallowed, walking to the dresser and pulling it's drawers open, to find that nothing had been removed from them.

He had left in a hurry, hadn't he?

Cassian swallowed, sitting down on the edge of Jizabels bed, resting his head in his hands. Now what was he to do? Was there anything he could do? If the doctor had chosen willingly to do go, then why should it be his concern? ...Because it was just like Jizabel to do such a thing, that was why.

He shuddered, thinking about how long it had been since they'd last spoken. It was around Eight o'clock last night, he had been going out...

_Why didn't I follow him?_

_"...You didn't follow me when I went out, either."_

_"No, I thought you wanted to be alone."_

_"...That doesn't usually stop you."_

His eyebrows furrowed, and he got up from the bed, trying to shake that memory from his head. He'd made that mistake this time, and times before that, he wouldn't be making it again. He'd just put his hand on the doorknob when one of the Doctors notebooks caught his eye. His hand fell from the knob and he walked back to the desk, picking it up and looking through it. The book itself was littered with medical notes, and a few sketches of doves, the art itself of a high standard, but what caught his eye where the pieces of paper that had been tucked into it...

_"I fetched the supplies you wanted They are in the morgue ~ Cassian"_

A somewhat confused look spread over his features, and he set the note down, moving on to the next few.

_"Don't overwork yourself today Get some sleep. ~ Cassian"_

_"I cleaned your work space abit Your notes are stacked in the corner. ~ Cassian"_

_"Went out Getting dinner. Will return shortly ~ Cassian"_

_"Your glasses are on the table You left them in the morgue. I thought you might need them. ~ Cassian"_

Cassian looked down to see several more notes of this nature lying on the desk, and after thinking for abit he was able to recall just when he'd written each of them. Had... Jizabel gone out of his way to save these? His expression softened, as he tucked them back into the notebook and left it on the table, at roughly the same place he'd found it.

He closed the door behind him, stepping out into the hallway. He was just on his way to the main hall when he heard footsteps and talking, and he stopped, leaning around the corner in attempts to see who it was... However, the approaching voices alone were enough for him to identify The Cardmaster and Hight Priest walking down the hall. He swallowed, stepping closer to where they were in attempt to hear the conversation, but instead, silence fell between the two of them. He froze, as one set of footsteps came down the hall alone, towards him.

Alexis narrowed his eyes, as he blew smoke out infront on him, his pipe grasped in his free hand.

"I wouldn't eavesdrop in the future, trumpcard."

Cassian stepped back, giving a curt nod before awkwardly walking past him, and Gladstone, in the direction towards the entry hall. That mans eyes where like hell itself, and he couldn't repress a shudder as he made his way past the two of them.

After he was a few feet away, they began their conversation once more, much to Cassians own dismay. What was going on? What where they planning? He took a breath, pushing the heavy doors to the building open and stepping out into the morning sunlight, a shocking contrast to the cruelty inside.

_Wherever you are, and whatever he has planned for you, I won't let this go on. I will _never_ let this go on._

_"Say goodbye,  
As we dance with  
The devil tonight._

Hold on,  
Hold on."  


-----

**The lyrics for this chapter are from Dance With The Devil by Breaking Benjamin. Ja.**

**I re-read some of volume 5 when I was writing this. It was rather fun. Everytime Cassandra spoke I thought about scanning the page and replacing his actual words with phrases like "I'm doing it for the Lulz" and horrible Aqua Teen Hunger Force quotes. (Cassandra is Handbanana. I'm not even kidding here... "Tonight... _You_****"... "All I know is... 'ball'... and 'good'.... and _rape_****.")**

**I also noticed this interesting bit when Riff is locked in that room... In the background there's this painting on the wall... I felt like his thought bubble should be changed to "There are no exits, and the window won't open... and this painting is scaring the shit out of me.... I need to get out of this room."**

**If you pick up that volume, and find that scene, you'll agree. Srsly.**

**Oh well, I pulled a quick update since I felt like it, although future updates will have abit of a break inbetween... I think I may have lost some readers by elevating the rating, since when people do that it leaves the main page: Out of sight, out of mind. ;-;**

**Oh well. Everyone should go read some of Sorryll's work... Like Sacrificial Lamb. It. Is. AWESOME.**


	7. Not On Your Own

It was roughly two o'clock in the morning, give or take a few minutes, when a stifled groan escaped the Doctors lips. He stirred, lifting his head up from the pillow and glancing at his surroundings. He thought for a moment, after recalling just where he was, questioning whether he preferred the horrible images that haunted his dreams, or his current surroundings- Cassandra's bedroom. He sighed, letting his head fall back down into the pillow. It had only been a day since he came here, hadn't it? It seemed like longer. Cassandra stirred behind him, however briefly, but didn't wake. This was no concern to Jizabel, that man could go for hours, then slept like a rock. The doctor had been given his own quarters, however it was dreadfully impractical to stay there, afterall he'd end up here one way or another. Then again, what was better? Cassandra coming to him, or him just staying at that bastards side?

_I'm just making it easier for him, but why...?_

He scowled, pulling his pillow out from under his head and slamming it down over him, as if trying to block out the loud voices that where in his head, needless to say failing. Perhaps he could suffocate this way? He smiled in a sick fashion, subconsciously moving his hand to press down on the pillow. It was slow, so agonizingly slow, then finally the ache started. His lungs, _her lungs_, where crying out for air, a faintness fell over him... but regardless he tightened his grip on the pillow, pressing down slightly harder. He could do it, he could do it himself. There was no impulse to pull away, to breath, to simply sit up and breath. There was no pain, nothing he wasn't used to, and now it was something that he'd never feel again. His grip loosened, however slightly, and the blackness began to take him. No more of this. No more of Cassandra, no more Father, no more of his demons, haunting his mind, his dreams. The madness was stopping, it could be stopped, it would be stopped. It was coming to an end, finally waking up from that nightmare of so many years.

Then it hit him, those eyes. A flash of green and just a hint of gold, a grim light in what had been a comforting darkness. It came through him like a shock wave, bringing him back to consciousness as he sat up, tossing the pillow to the floor and gasping for breath. His breathing slowed, and returned to normal, as he gave a paranoid glance towards Cassandra. Still sleeping. Good.

It was too soon. It would have to wait. Everything was falling into place, wasn't it? Wasn't it? It was much too soon, he had a plan, a vision. Father did aswell. Now was _not_ the time, It was too soon.

He slipped out of the bed, the room a little less dark now, since his eyes had adjusted. He picked up one of his robes from the floor, just where it had been tossed earlier, and put it on before leaving the room and returning to his own quarters.

Dr. Zenopia would have the test results brought to him soon, and Cassandra's sad little bet had made things all the more simple, hadn't they? No matter what this problem, this little hinderance, would be out of his way before the week was out. That bet. In a way, Cassandra's bet was _so very_ ironic.

_Take my freedom? I've never had freedom to take._

How true... How ridiculously true....

-----

...Who was in the hall? Light and quick footsteps, that pattern was so familiar.... Like a childs, yet far more agile. He ignored them, his mind too clouded by other things. Infact, he wasn't even sure he'd actually heard anything to begin with.

Riff Raffit was breaking down. He could almost hear his heart race, feel his pulse as he came to realize there was little hope to escape on his own. Jizabel's own feelings where caught between pleasure and misery. Just look at his sad little brother... Unconditional love? How preposterous. Riff's love was a complete fabrication, it was no more a reality than his own fathers words of affection. The minute that man escapes he'll go right back to Cain, and Cain will always be drawn to him, like a moth to an open flame... It was all for not. The finest example of devotion in the history of time was nothing more than a charade.

The door opened softly behind him, though he stayed by the wall, watching Riff intently through the portrait.

"...Doctor?"

His eyes widened, and he wasn't entirely sure whether or not he had jumped abit. Cassian didn't seem to have noticed, so perhaps he hadn't. At least he hoped he hadn't.

_What is he doing here...?_

"Doctor?"

He swallowed, taking a few seconds to regain his composure and turn to Cassian, his expression as bleak as usual, and certainly not surprised.

"...Oh, Cassian... You brought the information I asked Dr. Zenopia for."

Cassian returned this with a short nod, about to open his mouth before Jizabel crossed over to him, snatching away the papers. Cassian fell quite, as the doctor took a minute or so to look over the results, whatever they where. A peculiar look came to the mans eyes, if not for a second, before he slid the papers back into the folder.

"...Just as I suspected." he remarked quietly, before giving a rather odd glance to Cassian, looking more at his body then he was the man inside it.

"...Doctor-"

"I didn't expect you'd be bringing these, Cassian," the doctor remarked, cutting him off as if he was hiding something. Cassian watched him grasp the folder close to him, before using his forefinger to push up his glasses.

"I asked him if I could deliver them, he had no objections."

_Why did you do that...?_

"I have something that I need to ask you."

The doctors heart skipped a beat, worsening this situation still was the fact that there was no getting out of this. Perhaps it was something normal, something he should be asking... No, that wasn't like him, he always poked his head into places where it didn't belong, he was the type of person who never took no for an answer, ever.

"...yes?"

"...Why? Why are you even here?"

There it was.

"...I know that he's seen your past, but you stand on equal ground, why don't you do anything about it?"

Jizabel turned away from him, as his subordinates frustrations mounted. He had to admit, he was always a little wary when Cassian was angry. It was mot so much a fear of danger as it was the general uneasiness that his scoldings left.

"...And this time you're keeping me away."

He swallowed, raising his hand to push up his glasses yet again. It was a subtle motion, and like all of Jizabels behavior it was completely memorized by Cassian. He was nervous beyond belief, and Cassian himself took that as a good sign. At least he had him on the spot.

"...It's nothing that concerns you. You can go now, I'm busy, Cassian. Besides, I know you don't like me."

There are some things that just grind on a person, and that was one of them. What was it? Did the doctor always pull that just to smite him? Was it a reassurance to himself? Or was he really that ignorant?

"...You've finished your errand. Now Go."

The silence between them was laced with tension, as Cassian took a few steps forward.

"I'm not leaving... You remind me of how I used to be... You and I are too much alike. It disgusts me." Jizabel's eyes rose from the floor, and he turned them towards Cassian, though never giving him his full attention. "...Everything was fine up until I stopped growing. That was when my parents just turned on a dime. I was useless, so after a few years they decided it was in their best interest to sell me the first chance they got. Even when I performed in the circus I received little humane treatment. Anything that seemed like compassion was a complete charade."

Jizabels eyes widened, as he slowly turned his head to Cassian. The older man raised his own vision up from the floorboards to look at Jizabel, with a weak smile.

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but I've read you like an open book...." With that, however, he returned to his own story, "There was a girl there, years ago, who said she loved me.... She was the ringmasters woman. Everyone there was placing bets as to whether or not I'd fall for her."

His expression was grim, and Jizabel noticed most all the pigment fading from his face. He cringed, fighting away that desire to approach him. What he was saying didn't matter. It _could not_ matter. He knew what Cassian was getting at, and it simply would not do.

"...I couldn't take anymore of it. Eventually, I killed them both and fled. After that I just fell deeper and deeper into the criminal underworld and..." He paused, trying to form better words before giving up such a trivial task, "..and.... here I am now."

He paused, those words finally off his chest, and a feeling of relief coming over him with the reality that he was almost across the first bridge. Jizabels mask had fallen, and an ill feeling had come over him, as he stared down at the floor near Cassians feet.

"...I guess Delilah was as deep as I could get," he remarked, in hopes to break the awkward silence between them. But, of course, Jizabel took no initiative to comment, so he swallowed and continued.

"...I... came here because I'd heard of the vast scientific knowledge that Delilah housed... I just hoped that one day they'd be able to grant me what I desired most but... According to Zenopia, it's still out of my reach... I... have nothing left." He swallowed again, before stepping toward Jizabel, turning the younger mans head to face him, to look him straight in the eyes.

"I don't want you to become... the way I am."

Jizabel pulled away from him, with mounting urgency.

"...That's not your concern..! You don't know anything, you're completely wrong..!" He stopped, realizing just how much he was overreacting. This had all just slipped too far hadn't it? If he hadn't let Cassian in to begin with, none of this would have happened. It always lead back to his own stupid mistake, the stupid mistake of even letting him get so close to him...

"...I used to hate you. You aren't completely wrong, I really did.... but as the days, weeks... months went by I finally opened my eyes to what was happening... You aren't like others. You're alot different, the things you're capable of, the love that you're capable of. Jizabel...You're alot better than I've ever been, or ever _can_ be...you've just... given up on everyone, haven't you? ...Yet you're still hanging onto this idea that somehow your father might actually care for you..." Cassian's outward calmness dissolved, and he grabbed Jizabels tie, pulling him closer to him, "How long have you been this way!? What did he do to you!?"

His hand fell from the doctors shirt, and a few tears fell to the floor beneath him as he backed away. Jizabel took one cautious step forward, raising his hand toward Cassian as if to rest it on his shoulder, but the older man smacked his hand away, still frustrated by the doctors behavior.

"...Don't...do this to yourself...! You're just the way I was when I was cringing from the ringmasters whip... You have to break free of him, or you'll just continue to fall! You have to get away from both of them!"

A low chuckling split through the room, much to the concern of them both.

"_Really_, comparing your pathetic self to your superior? You really don't know when to quit, do you," he stepped into the room, laying an arm around Jizabel, ushering him away from Cassian, who scowled in complete disgust over how easily the doctor let him touch him.

"Doctor! Are you really alright with this-"

A sharp pain coursed through Cassians head, as the bottom of Cassandra's boot collided with his skull. Cassandra smirked, pressing his face against the ground, as Jizabel turned his own face away, unable to bring himself to say anything.

"When I have control, I will burn you lower class _scum_ alive. Get. Out. I never want to see you in my presence again, _boy_."

----

How could he honestly think that he would have won? When he himself had failed so many times. Cain was not to fall to such a simple attempt, Jizabel himself had learned that the hard way, as the scar under his eye so reminded him. As much as it pained him, it was evident, Only Father could touch Cain...

A death sentence was befitting to him, he had completely humiliated the whole organization, had he not? Besides, nobody liked him. Nobody. Cassandra could panic, cry, but no matter what he faced the same end. Everyone faced it, although Cassandra got it sooner. There are two types of people, _the one staying put their in proper place, and the one with their foot in the other ones face._

In Jizabels mind, both should be executed as soon as possible, their sad existences extinguished. A thin smirk of accomplishment spread over his mouth, as he lifted the Scavengers Daughter, tossing it down the stairs to land at Gladstones feet with a metallic clank.

"I believe that belongs to you."

Cassandra's face had gone extremely white, and with a miserable cry he slammed his elbow in the closest case, pulling the sword from it and making a run towards his former pet.

_Keep coming, don't stop._

The sword tore through flesh with a sickening tear, yet Jizabel felt no pain, as Cassians small, broken, form fell against him.

----

For once blood was not beautiful. His mind was racing, his heart could explode. He couldn't take anymore of this, was this how everyone else usually felt in situations like this? It couldn't be, could it?

_This is wound is fatal... if this isn't treated quickly..._

"It's alright..."

Cassian smiled at him, a thin trail of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"No, it's not."

_He's right, isn't he? _

Jizabel closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, before unbuttoning Cassians shirt and slowly pulling the rapier from his small body.

"D-don't try to save me... It's pointless, I don't care... if I can't have the body I wanted I..."

Jizabel sobbed, however briefly, before lowering him to the floor, attempting to make him abit more comfortable.

"Please...If you have any hope left at all you.. have to get away from Delilah...If you don't... He'll kill you, I know he will... He'll use you, and dispose of you once the time comes...Your wings that where once so beautiful are so soiled with insanity that they can't be washed off...."

He closed his eyes, much to Jizabels dismay, "...You have to run away now..."

The doctor sobbed again, his head in his hands.

"You... you really don't understand... I... I can't...? You're wrong... It's not that I can't... _I... don't want to_....I am in the palm of his hand, I'm imprisoned by an endless ring. No matter what he does to me I... I belong to him. My body and soul belong to him...."

"Jizabel..."

"...Abel did everything God wanted, but in the end it was _Cain_ who committed the first murder, it was _Cain_ who could be killed by nobody else, it was Cain who got the attention wasn't it...? ...Wasn't it? ...After everything _Cain_ was of far greater importance.... but...Th-there is no God, there is only the Cardmaster. And I cannot leave him."

Cassians eyes fluttered open, however briefly.

"I understand... That's too bad."

He weakly raised his hand, brushing it gently across the younger mans cheak, a trail of blood left behind, showing a vibrant crimson on his pale skin.

"...but... if you ever do change your mind... Don't hesitate to call on me... Because... You can't do anything on your own... You're still just... just a boy..."

His hand dropped from Jizabels face, falling limply beside him. The doctors heart nearly stopped, and a feeling of dread swept over him as he lifted Cassian's hand from the floor the check his pulse.

_Why....?_

He swallowed, looking nervously around the room before his eyes finally came to rest on Cassandra's crumpled and unconscious form in the corner. He then took a sharp breath, upon realizing that he hadn't done so for several seconds. His fingers still lingered on Cassians wrist, feeling the faint pulse beneath them. It was now or never.

_It's not time for you to exist the stage yet._

_----_

**No song lyrics today, since I hadn't thought of any that fit. hah. Haha... but there is another Sweeny Todd reference, that is "One staying put in his proper place, and the one with his foot in the otherones face"**

**I feel sad. No more Cassandra. I sorta liked the old perv.... and... and.... No more rapings! Dx **

**What kind of world do we live in where Jizabel only has to worry about his Father? A far less emo world, isn't it? ...Hah, ohhh you have no idea. Angst will live on, I assure you... Dunno if this is a good thing or not... Ah well, review plz, thank you. (And I hope everyone had a happy halloween.)**


	8. Tonight

**The following chapter is more M-rated then the rape chapter. 8D**

**I was going to send the draft to Sorryll but... stuff happened, and I just kept writing and.... Yeah.**

**I feel dirty, oh so dirty, oh so dirty, and smutty, and wrooooong. And I pray... that my parents... Never happen-upon-this-file stashed on our desktooooopppp....**

**Heh...anywayyyyy.... Yeah..... So, LEMONS, HOLY CRAP! *dives off of website***

----

The previously blinding lights had dimmed, the bloody instruments tossed back onto the cold tray they'd been taken from, and the others were clearing out at last. It was almost impossible to believe that all this had happened in a few short hours, that just days before everything was fine... Or as close to fine as it had ever been. But Jizabel could believe it, he had long since grown used to such rapid and agonizing change, though it still was able to eat away at him.

"It's a perfectly preserved specimen, are you sure you don't want it?" Zenopia paused, holding the jar at an odd angle to get a different view, awaiting Death's response, for he knew it would be awhile. "The human brain is a fascinating machine, but I already have a few-"

"Take it. I never want to see it again"

His response cut the room like a knife, and for several seconds the only sound heard was the cloth he was sliding over one of his scalpels, attempting to wipe the blood off. And although it was spotless now, and had been for several minutes, he could still see blood, smell it, all over him, everywhere. It wasn't his own, it wasn't an enemies. It was...theirs... It was a mixture of that mans acid, and Cassians life, spilling over into his hands. It would never come off.

Zenopia raised an eyebrow, rather oblivious to the doctors current dilema. "Well, if you insist..."

He rubbed his chin, as he sat the glass jar containing Cassandras brain onto his work desk, somewhat pleased with how it fit in with his other belongings, however scarce they where.

"Of course, I heard your own collection had been almost completely destroyed, are you sure you don't-"

A sharp clank rang through the room, as he slammed the scalpel back down onto the table, turning on heel and marching in Zenopia's direction. Without a word he stepped right past him, picking the jar up off the table, taking a moment to look at it's contents with a sickened scowl.

"...Yes... If you want me to have it..." He was shaking, as he walked away from the table, a death grip on the jar as he lifted the surgical mask he'd been wearing earlier back up to his face. "...I'll take it...."

With that, and without warning, he threw it hard against the wall, smashing the glass and watching the organ splat onto the floor. That of course was not even enough, and it was barely over a second before he'd slammed his foot onto it, crushing it beneath him.

Zenopia's eyes widened just a touch, and he took a step back just as Jizabel drew another scalpel from his pocket, stabbing it into the tissue, slicing up what was left of the brain. The sharp instrument fell from his hands, and he stayed one his knees for a moment longer, catching his breath. Zenopia frowned, taking an awkward step forward as he pulled a rag from his pocket, wiping specks of the brain and other tissues from his own glasses as he approached Jizabel. He stood behind him for a moment, leaning over him to look at the damage.

"Perhaps you need some sleep..." He remarked, still put out with what had just been done to such a nice specimen. Jizabel stood awkwardly, leaning onto the wall closest to him for support, leaving a smear of blood across it from his gloves.

"...Yes...perhaps...."

A small groan was heard behind them, and they both turned at the same time, realizing it had come from Cassandra... No, from Cassian. Cassandra was on the floor... all over the floor.

"...I don't want him waking up yet... Give him another dosage...."

Without any further words, or even a moment to check on Cassian, he left the room. It was too soon for him to wake up... It was too soon to see him, it was too fast, too much, it was... He swallowed, staring down at the blood dripping over his hands. Was in under the gloves too? Of course it was, _it had to be_, it was staining him, everywhere...

"I was growing rather tired of that mans impudence, I quite enjoyed your little spectacle, Jizabel."

Every word from the Cardmaster was another brutal stab, but it never mattered did it? Jizabel took an awkward step towards him, before leaning into his stiff embrace.

"Good boy, Jizabel."

He shuddered, as Alexis pulled his head down to his shoulder, his cold hands threaded into his own silvery hair. He returned the icy embrace, keeping his blood soaked hands off his fathers clean suit, his own eyes staring blankly to the hall floor. It was numbing, a good numb. The only thing's father had ever brought him, numbess and pain, and pain _was_ numbness. Both were an enrapturing break from the real world. It didn't matter what Cassian had said, it didn't matter what he'd _always_ known to be truth, that he'd thought about killing him before, that he spent all his time alone sulking in hatred and fear.

Father was here, holding him, touching him, _praising him_, devoting his attention all to him... It was a lie he was willing to live.

_But Cassain is warmer..._

-----

Zenopia had suggested a sedative, the lower cards solved problems with alcohol, and The Cardmaster... The Cardmaster saw nothing wrong. Jizabel cared little for the short term effects on either options, however tempting they where, that loss of his better judgement would not be worth the numbing effect. It had been a little past eleven o'clock when the surgery was finished, and almost two in the morning when he staggered into his own room, tossing the bloody apron and surgical gloves to the floor. He had just sat down and pulled off the surgical mask as the clock finally struck two. It was then that it occurred to him that the last time he'd set foot in this room it was with Gladstone, as he packed up what few belongings he needed.

Now here he was again, the same place he limped off to every night. Three days had passed, but nothing had changed. He hadn't talked to Cassian yet, though Zenopia had. Infact, Zenopia had been keeping watch for the past few days. He slumped into his seat at the his desk, staring blankly at his own notes on the surgical procedure. He wouldn't see Cassian until this sickness subsided, not until his head cleared...

But there it was again, the red color that came to him when he closed his eyes, the scent of blood, the brutal, nightmarish images... He took in a deep, ragged breath as his head fell into his hands. He stayed this way, rubbing his temples for what seemed like an hour, hearing only the agonizingly slow clock and his own heartbeat. Was this concern? When had he last felt concern? He thought for a moment, trying to recall the last time he'd even cared for another person, and finally came to the conclusion that what he felt now was entirely different. There was worry, of course, worry for Cassian, worry for the future, worry in the back of his head that somehow, someway, Cassandra was still there... but there was something else too, something entirely different that he hadn't felt since the ritual of regeneration, not since Cassandra had rekindled his worst memories, not since-

_"You've eaten not only your best friend, but also the lives of your sisters. This is how you continue to survive"_

A brutal stab sprayed blood onto the desk, splattering across the mahogany surface. His grip on the blade tensed, and he cut into his arm abit deeper, dragging it up the pale skin forming jagged lines in the crimson.

Somehow it made sense now... It was guilt.

He turned the scalpel slowly, almost unaware of his actions as began to trace something over the line.

Guilt for mother, for his sisters.

It cut roughly, blood dripping onto to the floor with every jagged slice.

Guilt for Snark. Guilt for every sick thing he'd seen done to animals, for the sins he knew he was guilty of.

The crucifix fell towards his arm, the bottom point of it dipping into the deepest of the cuts, almost infecting the wounds.

Guilt for Cassian.

They were precise, they were careful. Death wasn't the goal, not yet, he wouldn't cut too deep, he'd avoid the crucial veins, but only until his work was complete.

Guilt he should never feel for humanity, guilt his better judgement told him was pointless.

Several more slices, tracing letters across his blood soaked skin, until he finally dropped the scalpel to the floor. The blood from the cuts had completely soaked his arm, and the stains on the carpet would be trouble to remove, if anyone ever cared to come in here again. Somehow he doubted it.

_"I'll give you this, It symbolizes your sorrow over death, and your willingness to embrace your own sin..."_

His breathing was ragged, as he wiped the sleeve of his shirt over his arm, wiping away the excess blood, revealing the text he'd scrawled into his flesh.

_SINNER._

It was rough, pointed, with an overwhelming sense of pain radiating from it, and it was written above the first slice he'd made, underlining it to reenforce the point. He raised his other hand, jerking the crucifix from his neck hard enough to break the chain, before flexing his arm, making the most crucial veins in the wrist more visible. He swallowed, lowering the point of the cross down, about to stab down for that final slice just as a strong hand gripped his own bloodied one, pulling it back.

"....C-cassian...?"

He turned slowly, but before he could even make eye contact with the figure before him, a sharp pain stung his face, as the older man backhanded him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Jizabel whimpered at his harsh tone, an action unknown to himself, and one that almost made Cassian feel guilty for striking him. He raised his head once more, a little more wary this time, to face him. It was _him_, yet it wasn't. This was what he had been dreading, this was what he was terrified of... Yet somehow, the eyes were softer, much closer to Cassians own. Furthermore, the way he carried himself was different, his speech pattern was different, It _was_ Cassian.

"...What are you.. doing here now...?" Jizabel closed his mouth immediately, shocked and embarrassed by the scared and pathetic voice that came from his lips. He lowered his voice, finding a whisper abit easier at this point. "...What are doing here? ...You shouldn't be up, Zenopia was watching you, I thought-"

"He was sleeping, I'm fine." his tone was sharp, and it did a fairly good job of silencing Jizabel for the time being. He paused, before walking over to Jizabels bed and tearing fabric from the sheets. Without any further words, or any fight from the doctor, he wrapped it tightly around his arm, slowing the blood flow. Jizabel glanced at him, from the corner of his eye.

"...You're shaking. You aren't 'fine'."

He raised his head to him, only to have him look away again.

"I don't think that should be your concern right now." He finished, tying it roughly enough to get a pained gasp from the younger man. "If it hurts so much, then why do it?"

"...It's all I understand," he paused, feeling more insecure with every move Cassian made. He opened his mouth again, but even after several seconds nothing further came from him, and he closed it again, wishing Cassian had been a little later. Had he been later, at least this shame wouldn't be overwhelming him. The older man walked around him, putting his hands on his shoulders, Jizabel shuddering under his touch.

"I'm sorry then, I wish that wasn't the case...."

"...How.... How do you feel?" The doctor whispered, unsure how to respond now.

The words themselves seemed foreign coming from Jizabel, but it dawned on Cassian that normality had long since vanished.

"....I think I'm alright... It's... very strange." He paused, his hand lifted from Jizabels shoulder, wandering unconsciously up his head to where he had been cut into... "Zenopia told me alot... but you know how he is. I would have preferred to have spoken with you, but...."

"I'm sorry."

Cassian swallowed, shocked again by the younger mans tone and choice of words. Had he ever heard him say that to anyone? In a way, he really _did_ deserve the apology. 'I'm sorry for ignoring you completely whenever you tried to get close, I'm sorry for being such a prat, I'm sorry hurting myself, even after you've sacrificed to stop me.' Yes, it would have actually been rather nice had those phrases followed, even though he felt guilty to think it.

"....It's alright. I know you are... You were with me yesterday."

Jizabels eyes widened, and he turned to face him, earning a chuckle from Cassian, one he knew to be quite different then Cassandra's cruel laughter.

"You thought I was asleep, but I was awake... Thank you for spending that hour with me.... When I heard you and Zenopia talking.... I was surprised you were that worried."

Jizabel took this moment to stand, almost losing his balance, the blood on the floor an unfriendly reminder of his current state. Though the pale hugh to Cassians own face was an unfriendly reminder of just how frail they _both_ where.

"Lie down, you lost alot." Cassian said, cutting the silence, though not cutting deep enough, for Jizabel gave little regard.

"I haven't lost enough for that," He remarked, the stiffness to his tone returning, his harsh ways coming back. "_You_ should. You're my patient, You shouldn't even be moving around yet."

However, in the time their brief argument had taken place they had already come very close to the bed, Jizabels leg brushing against it, and with little warning aside from a victorious smirk Cassian pushed him just hard enough to knock him back onto it. With that, he sat down on the edge of the bed infront of him, glancing behind his shoulder at Jizabels bewildered expression.

"Well?" Cassian questioned, his tone giving that strong indication that he would _not_ give in until he won.

"...Ah...Alright...."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, made even more awkward by the fact that Cassian hadn't lashed out at him yet for what he'd done, well, aside from the slap. He had to have been thinking it, was he just bottling up his anger...? Would the scoldings be coming soon? A pink hue rose in his cheeks, embarrassed by how childish he made him feel, but given the darkness of the room Cassian saw nothing. He felt a weight shift beside him, as Cassian stood. Suddenly, although he desperately wanted to deny it, panic struck him.

"Where are you going?" the words escaped his mouth faster, and more anxious, than he would have preferred.

"Alcohol." He replied, with a short gesture to Jizabels bandaged arm, "I'll come right back." He added reassuringly. Jizabel swallowed as Cassian continued his walk to the door.

"Cassian!" His hand stopped at the call, just as it touched the door knob, and he turned back to face him. "...There's a bottle in the cupboard..." Jizabel murmured, pointing meekly towards the small cabinet beside his desk. Cassian raised an eyebrow. At this point, the doctors behavior was just too odd. Perhaps it was the lack of blood, the stress, god only knew what they'd both been through. In truth, his own head was splitting, and he hadn't gotten used to this body, he never would. Infact, he hardly felt comfortable around Jizabel, not like this.

He kneeled on the bed again, pulling Jizabels arm towards him and unwrapping the bandages again, feeling him shake abit as he poured the contents of the bottle over the cuts.

"Please stop doing this. I don't want to lose you." Cassian whispered, tracing his finger over the jagged word before wrapping it up again with a fresh bandage. "...and don't brand yourself something you're not."

"...I already did it. It's there to stay, forever. I can't undo it."

"Yes, you can." He ran his hand over the bandage, "...maybe not there, but...." He continued up his arm, and onto his body, finally stopping to rest on his chest. "...here." Cassian paused, realizing that the black cross that normally hung at his neck in a most forbidding way was gone, It's absence lifting a dark veil from the surrounding space.

"I told you... I can't..." He whispered back, mournfully.

Cassian swallowed, taking Jizabels hand. The action itself was borderline horrifying, yet what's done is done. Suddenly there was no going back, suddenly any doubts they'd had of eachother felt so small, so ridiculous. Cassian finally spoke, as he looked into Jizabels eyes, eyes that where so much closer, so much less hazier, tonight then he'd ever seen them.

"...I know you can't, I won't try to make you... but _I_ can't let this go on." Jizabel swallowed, as Cassian ran his hand through his hair. "...Please trust me."

"...I do."

Their lips brushed together, in a fleeting moment. Cassian was the first to pull away, a dry feeling in his throat. He'd almost fallen back off the bed, but the grip on eachothers hands remained, a bond neither wanted to give up, and Cassian regained his balance, adjusting his seat next to his now blushing superior. Really, neither knew who had made that first move, perhaps they'd both initiated it. The flavor it left was intoxicating, leaving them both starved for another taste the minute they drew away. But Cassian finally broke the contact, standing and crossing to the door.

"I-I should go."

Jizabel bolted up, dashing infront of him just as they both reached the door. Cassians hand was on his head, a sharp pain coursing through him. Jizabels own head was spinning, standing up so fast after losing that much blood had taken it's tole.

"Don't."

"...Doctor."

"Call me by my name!"

Silence fell between them, as Cassian opened his mouth, just barely whispering his name. He raised his voice abit, as Jizabel took a step closer.

"Jizabel... I can't do this..." He turned the knob, cracking the door open, but with one rough movement Jizabel slammed it closed again, turning up to Cassian slowly.

"...Don't....Leave me...." It was desperate. Cassian had heard him like that before, but not like this, never like this.... He shuddered. Was it really right? For months he'd thought about it, about the doctors body, his lips, the beautiful soul hidden beneath that torn and bloodied exterior... and yet... He never thought it would come this far, perhaps it was because of his juvenile body, his old body, but it was also guilt. He hated feeling that way about Jizabel, it was wrong. Not just because he was a man, but because of that innocence. The innocence he wanted to protect, though it was an innocence long since stripped from him... And now, now he was in Cassandra's shell... how could Jizabel even want this? There was no hope for such relations now, how could he want any form of contact, how-

His thoughts where cut off as that warm, calming sensation spread down his lips like the oceans current, coursing through his body, as Jizabel raised his hand to his face, kissing him, _begging_ him to return it. How could he do this, how could _either_ of them do this? He did return it, wrapping his arms around the younger mans waist, even pressing his tongue into his mouth, deepening it as Jizabel moaned. The doctors free hand moved to the door in this time, awkwardly searching for the lock, an action Cassian had hardly noticed until he heard it click. Finally they pulled away from eachother, Jizabel pausing to wipe the saliva from his mouth, before he looked back up to Cassian. Those _were_ Cassians eyes, his alone.

"...Are you sure?" Cassian murmured, that question that had been at the tip of his tongue for the past minute.... but he only received an impatient nod in response, as Jizabel leaned into him, resting his head on his shoulder.

"...Yes." he finally replied, the color in his cheeks rising again.

----

The temperature in the room had dropped exponentially, although they both knew it to be their own rising temperatures. Cassian looked down into Jizabels amethyst eyes, as his hands wandered down his body, stopping just at the bottom of his shirt. Jizabel gasped as Cassians fingers danced over his skin, slowly unbuttoning the shirt, though he would have much preferred them to touch him elsewhere first. He whispered the older mans name, but was silenced with a deep, passionate kiss... just as Cassian pushed the front of his shirt completely open, running his lips down the younger mans chest, licking over one of his nipples, down, dipping into his navel, lower, lower... finally stopping just at the edge of his trousers, as Jizabel moaned, arching his back just as Cassian lifted his head.

"Cassian, please!"

The older man nodded, pulled Jizabel closer to him, kissing his beautiful lips sweetly as his hands roamed back down, fumbling with the first button, slowly reaching his hand down the front of the younger mans pants. Jizabel moaned into Cassians mouth, the pleasure of the moment completely overwhelming. He gasped, as Cassians kissed his neck and collarbone, and as his senses finally came back he began to unbutton Cassians shirt, all the while unconsciously thrusting into his hand, praying it wouldn't end.

Of course, that was when it did, when Cassian gentle touch left him.

"...Nhh....More, C-cassian..." The older man leaned over him, resting a finger on his pale lips.

"Give me a moment."

Jizabel swallowed, nodding, as Cassian continued, finally removing the rest of their clothing. The moonlight shined in from the balcony, as Jizabel sat up, kissing slowly down Cassians neck, the assertiveness he had in most everything else returning to him. Cassian gasped, as the younger mans tongue trailed over his chest, and just as he'd reached the edge of his ribcase he stopped him, cupping Jizabels chin in his hand and raising his face to his.

"I love you." Cassian pulled him closer, savoring that sweet embrace. He swallowed, a suddenly ill feeling rising as his hands slid lower, over the jagged scars crossing over Jizabels back.

"...I..." Jizabel took a breath, unsure what he really felt, suddenly uncomfortable with this vulnerability, "...Love you too."

There was silence between them for several seconds more, as Cassian slowly, gently, pet Jizabels hair. The younger man swallowed, resting his head on Cassians shoulder.

"C-cassian?"

"Hmm?"

He took another breath, clenching his fist, though out of the older ones range of vision.

"You...You know... When I have those nightmares....?" Cassians grip around him tightened, as he felt the younger man shiver. "...When the others aren't there...when the rest aren't haunting me, there's another I _always_ see...." Cassian nodded, a single tear dripping from his face and onto Jizabels shoulder. "It's my mother, I know it's her.... Her eyes... they're gone. They're just empty, bloody holes.... She...She never looked at me, Cassian... and I hear Father talking, and he has a platter in his hand and....and...." He sobbed, as Cassian continued to pet him, making a few shushing noises as he held him close.

"....I...and I... don't want to have those dreams tonight."

"...You won't. I promise you won't."

That was where they stayed, for several minutes until they'd both calmed and remembered their own urges, a blush rising in both their cheeks. They pulled away from eachother, slowly, the seperation, however short, agonizing to them both. Cassian smiled warmly, using his hand to wipe one remaining tear from Jizabels face.

"...You wanted to continue, then?"

With little more then a nod, and a few soft kisses Cassian gently pushed Jizabel back onto the bed before repeating his previous move down Jizabels body, this time his lips not stopping as he went lower, lower, eliciting a startled cry from Jizabel as he groped at the sheets on the bed beneath him. This pleasure, however, was only a distraction as Cassian ran his fingers up the back of Jizabels thigh, sliding underneath him and pressing against his entrance. Jizabel whimpered, closing his eyes as he felt Cassians finger press into him. It didn't hurt as much as he'd expected, partially because he'd long since lost his virginity, but mostly the gentleness of his touch, such decencies he knew he'd never experienced before, certainly not from Cassandra. He winced, a second finger probing him, as Cassian finally pulled away from Jizabels erection, leaning up to kiss his neck.

"Does it hurt?" he whispered, his lips beside the younger mans ear.

"...No... Not any more...."

Cassian nodded, pressing his lips against Jizabels, just as his fingers prodded deeper, brushing against the younger mans prostate. His eyes widened, and another pleasured moan escaped his throat, as Cassian drew his lips away, aswell as his fingers, taking a moment to position himself. He swallowed, looking down at Jizabel, who turned his head away suddenly, embarrassed by his own lust, aswell as a twinge of fear.

"Are you ready?" Cassian whispered, reaching a hand down to turn Jizabels face back towards him.

"...Yes."

-----

Jizabel blinked his eyes open, groaning at the morning sun. He sighed, closing them once more, and tossing the blanket over his head. He was still mostly asleep anyway, and he wasn't in the mood to get up yet. In retrospect, last night had been the only decent night he'd experienced in his entire life, He didn't want to lose that now. The door was still locked, nobody would brake in, and he was long past the point of caring about Father. _He_ probably knew already. He thought for a moment, dreaming, replaying his time with Cassian over and over, if only they could do that _every_ night... Perhaps from now on? No, it had to be a fluke, it wasn't something that could be repeated so easily... But what if it could be, and what if he was to leave? Cassian was right, he could do it, he knew he _could_... The Cardmaster could care less what he did, wasn't another night of ecstasy, just one more, better then dying here? He shuddered. Death was what he'd been waiting for. Ever since he first heard of Fathers plan, it was a count down. And maybe, just maybe, he'd be missed when he died, mourned for just a moment, even if it was just a fleeting thing... Wasn't that worth it? Wasn't Fathers love worth that much? ....It was true. Cassian was worth more. He realized it last night. Cassian wasn't lying, Cassian cared for him, Cassian made him feel good for once. Last night wasn't like anything else before it, last night was something new entirely. It dawned on him then, as he slowly started to wake up, that last night was the way sex was supposed to be.

He smiled to himself, opening his eyes slowly and adjusting to the suns rays. Somehow they weren't harsh this morning, they were so gentle. He felt more connected to this world then he had in a long time, since his childhood... But that was when he felt it... Why did he feel alone?

His eyes widened, and he sat up abruptly, realizing the space beside him was empty, cold. Had he dreampt it? The evidence was all around him, besides, he could feel it still, taste it, it _had_ happened. He swallowed, looking slowly in the direction of the door to find it cracked open.

"...No...."

He sobbed, his hand slowly intertwining with his hair, tearing several stands from the roots... His eyes still fixed on the cracked door, the only evidence remaining when he left him late last night.

__

"And tonight before you sleep  
There will be a you and me  
And I hope I'm on your mind  
When you wake."

------

**Oh god, so, what do you think? XD**

**Yes, I always ruin everything with something bad don't I? I'm just evil. D;**

**Also, I'm evil for making Jizabels desk out of... MAHOGANY. Only people who have watched Dragon Ball z Abridged will get that reference.... yeah.... MAHOGANY... and not just any mahogany, mahogany from the planet Malchior 7, where the trees are three hundred feet tall and breath fire, from these trees this desk was formed, using ancient blood rituals of the Malchior people and.... Okay, I'm shut up now. XD**

**Back to serious notes,**

**The lyrics are from Tonight, by Easyworld. That song I always have loved, but can't get anywhere, So I resort to playing it on youtube every so often, when I'm feeling like having an emo moment. Go listen to it, better yet, play it everytime you read a sex scene. XDD**


	9. Shattered

**So, in a total epiphany last night, I realized exactly how this will play out. I already knew how it would end, but the parts inbetween the chapter 8 and the last chapter had been abit of a confuzled section of my head. But not anymore. It's getting down to the last chapters. I know that there will be at least 4 more, perhaps 5. However many there are, it'll be coming down to those last moments. So here's a shoutout to... Sorryll, Savvi-Sin, and DarkAngelJudas!**

**So, uhh, This chapter has two flashbacks to things that happened in the time frame of chapter 8... So keep that in mind and don't get too confused, and if you do get confused... I'm sorry.**

**Anywho, let us begin. xP**

**And I apologize if they're abit OOC at one point, I noticed this aswell when I was writing it.**

-----

_Was it all just a joke?_

"And then.... There's those few seconds, and everything seems to go silent, it's like the calm before the storm, and then-" The younger man stopped, awkwardly shifting the suitcase under his arm so that he could clap his hands together, "....Bam!" His grip slipped and the case fell to the tiles below him, and he followed it down, frantically shoving the few of his belongings that had fallen out back in, closing it once more. Jizabel stopped during all this, a blank expression on his face as the younger assistant got back to his feet.

"...But anyway, THAT is what I live for. Really, you haven't lived until you've seen it just... Just go up in flames." His tone mellowed somewhat, and a light smile came across his features as he looked around the busy station. "...Like that train, Wouldn't _that_ be beautiful... Especially when it's going down the country side, late in the night, the warm fires blazing down the tracks.....Then..." He paused, stopping for a moment while the Doctor walked ahead, ignoring his ramblings. "The explosion...That.... God, _that_ would be beautiful."

He was lost in thought for a moment, his hand dipping into his pocket and lightly stroking the box of matches he always kept on his person. However, several seconds had already passed before he came to realize he'd lost his superior in the crowd. A shocked gasp escaped his throat, and he gripped the handle of his suit case, using his other hand to hold his hat on his head as he pushed his way through the crowd to keep up.

_Was it a game, Cassian?_

The Doctors pace quickened, as he desired nothing more just then to be rid of his imbeciles company, but the arsonist picked up his pace aswell, and in one awkward step he found himself bumping straight into the Doctor. The older man tripped to the side, just as the arsonist jumped back, realizing what he'd done. Jizabel regained his footing, but not before bumping into another person in the busy station, knocking his hat to the ground.

_I've never liked games... Was I your revenge? Did you just want to wrong someone else the way that woman wronged you...? Was that the goal?_

The other man paused, as both their hands reached for the top hat. It was a temporary brightness to the afternoon, a surprise that someone would even go out of their way to do such a thing, but far more importantly it was a nice break from his painful train of thought.

"Thank you." He remarked, briefly, as he took the hat back from the stranger... Almost dropping it again as his eyes caught a glimpse of the slash across the mans hand, and they widened further as he made brief eye contact with the apparent stranger.

_"Cassian?!"_ He froze, his legs betraying him as the older man turned and continued through the station towards the nearest coach, leaving Jizabel behind him, his feat glued to the floor. Yet what seemed like an eternity had only been a second, and he bolted through the crowd, leaving his suitcase behind him and cutting through the masses giving little regard to several people he'd roughly elbowed to get to the train. He was still too late, however, even from the distance he was at he could see the man boarding, the door closing behind him. Even when he heard the train pulling out of the station he continued his fight through the crowd, as if some little voice told him he could still make it.

"Doctor! ...Hey! Doctor!" The arsonist tripped in behind him, gasping for breath as the train pulled out of the station, leaving only smoke and steam in its wake. He let out a heavy breath, dropping both his suitcase, and Jizabels, onto the ground beside him. "...Something wrong...?"

He paused staring into the distance before adjusting his glasses and walking away, giving no response to his new subordinate, who grumbled incoherently before pulling both suitcases up off the ground and continuing after him.

_Yes. I'm fine. I'm just fine now..._

_----_

_"Are you ready?"_

_"Yes."_

_...._

"Cassia- ...Ah!...." Jizabel winced, his fingernails briefly stabbing against Cassians back.

"...Did I hurt you?"

The younger man took a breath, his grip on Cassians shoulders loosening.

"... N-no... Don't stop."

"...Jizabel, I don't want to hurt-"

"Then..." He winced, lifting his head up to whisper in his partners ear. "...Just do it..."

The younger man pulled back away from him, his head falling back against the pillow, his long hair catching the moons beams of light. "...It's alright, please, don't stop."

Cassian leaned forward, planting a soft and reassuring kiss on the doctors forehead before thrusting into him. He paused momentarily, waiting for the pained expression to leave the doctors face before pulling out slowly again.

"Relax."

Jizabel nodded, closing his eyes. Cassians motions were slow, and very careful at this point, but the younger man could feel him quicken his pace, his fourth thrust pressing against-

"Ahh..." Jizabels low whimpers were replaced with soft moans, as he closed his eyes and rocked slowly in attempts to keep up with Cassians much faster pace. The older man lowered his head again, dipping one of his hands under Jizabels head and pulling him up into a deep kiss...

----

Cassian swallowed, pulling the door to the compartment shut before sliding into his seat, his head falling into his hand. He was alone at this time, apart from another man in his mid fifties who was asleep with his head leaning against the window, his bag tucked under his seat. Cassian swallowed, rubbing his head before glancing back out the window, though failing to see much more of the station vanishing behind him.

_I should've talked to him... I should have just talked to him._

He hadn't expected to have a run in with him there, he didn't even know what to say or do. That moment had only lasted a few minutes, a few minutes that he'd easily let slip past him. There was no going back now, it had to wait till later. It had to wait until it was all over, until nothing stood in their way.

_Later? Will there be a later?_

His throat went dry, as images of death, of Jizabels scars, bled through his head. He'd thought of that already, but the doctor had to hang in there... He _had_ to.

_Does he even trust me? Does he even believe I'll come back?_

Memories of that night spun through his mind, the lacerations across the younger mans arm all too vivid. That was when he was still with him, what was that kid capable of alone? He shuddered, shifting uneasily in his seat, a nauseous feeling rising in his stomach... but he kept it down, trying to focus on the now, and on the future. After what Jizabel had told him that night, now that he knew the full extent of what the Cardmaster had done to him... He had to be saved. It no longer a matter of giving him a second chance, he deserved is first chance back... He had to live.

_Just please, I'll come back for you, just stay alive.... Just don't kill yourself before I get there..._

_----_

"J-Jizabel, I.... Ahh...."

Having reached his climax several seconds after the young doctor, the elder man exhaled, before pulling out and falling rolling to his side. The younger of the two was silent for a moment, before turning his head to Cassian.

"...That was...." He swallowed, still at a loss for words as Cassian reached his hand towards him, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. "...That was amazing, Cassian, that..." The older man smiled, pulling him into another kiss, cutting him off midsentence. He accepted it, in turn pressing his own tongue against the older ones lower lip, Cassian in turn opening his mouth further and letting him in. This last second spurt of passion only lasted briefly, however, before Jizabel pulled away from him and fell back against the pillow.

"...Too... tired..."

Cassian nodded, agreeing fully with this statement as he sat up, pulling a blanket up over their bodies before snuggling up closer to his partner.

"...You keep silencing me." Jizabel remarked groggily, referring to that last kiss.

"Did it really need to be said?" He sighed, stroking the doctors cheek.

"No." He said, his lips spreading to a light smile. "...I suppose it didn't."

Cassian closed his eyes, the hand that had been on Jizabels cheek reaching down to wrap around the young mans waste, as sleep came to claim him.

....

"...Cassian?"

"Nhhggg....What...?" The older man blinked his eyes open to see Jizabel lying beside him, now staring wistfully at the ceiling. "...I thought you were tired...?" He sat up abit, leaning against his elbow on the pillow.

Jizabel paused, before turning back to face him, the smile that had so beautifully graced his features gone again, and whatever ecstasy that he had previously felt long passed.

"I am....but.... I'm not sure if I can even sleep..."

"...What can I do?"

He took a breath, trying to recall what he had even awoken Cassian for. It wasn't as if it couldn't wait, and did it really matter? How _did_ it matter? Cassian already knew too much, and now he'd done too much, _They'_d done too much. There was no going back, and pushing him away wouldn't work anymore. He hardly wanted it to work anymore.

"Cassian...How much do you know?"

"...Know about-"

"About me." His brow furrowed as he leaned his head forward against Cassians chest, this small attempt at hiding proving utterly ridiculous, although he felt better not being able to Cassians face then... He could understand why ostriches enjoyed this sort of thing.

"Well...I...." Cassian bit his lip, unsure how to respond, worried about how the wrong answer would effect the night. "...You're not how alot of people try to interpret you... You're _not_ the devil incarnate... You _do_ have human emotions, alot more human then anyone else left in this damned city... You're very intelligent, but sometimes you don't use it when you need it most... You don't trust anyone, you've been wronged before, and you've seen only the worst side of others, so you think all people are alike..." He paused, taking a moment to stroke Jizabels hair, feeling the younger mans soft, yet uneven, breaths against his chest. "...You love animals. It's...It's as if this light comes on when you're around them... but you don't like all animals, I've seen you get just a tiny bit nervous around some of them, but even then you don't hate them, you wouldn't kill them. You just don't think that way.... and, even though you don't like people... You think I'm alright." He added that last remark with a short smile, just as Jizabel raised his head, fighting back both tears, and a chuckle at his last comment.

"...Just 'alright'?"

"I didn't want to get ahead of myself."

The younger man smiled, hugging Cassian tightly as a few tears fell down his face, dripping onto his lovers chest. "You know that isn't... what I meant..."

Cassian nodded, holding him close.

"I know...." Cassian swallowed, Although he'd known earlier that his attempt at altering the conversation would be in vain. "... I suppose I don't know very much. I know he hurt you... I know you used to live outside of London, somewhere peaceful... You had older sisters, didn't you?"

Jizabel nodded, solemnly, an ill feeling rising in his stomach at their very mention.

"..I wasn't sure, it was just something I overheard Cassandra say... I never knew if that was true or not-"

"I barely knew them, just barely remember their names and faces.... Alice and Frances used to play skipping games out in the fields, and mother would always tell them to include me, not to leave me out..." He smiled, however faintly, torn between a fond memory and blatant misery. "...It wasn't as if they really wanted a boy playing with them."

Cassian smiled, as Jizabel spoke for a few minutes more, recollecting a few small memories of his childhood, though most of these memories were as far back as he _could_ go. But still... He was smiling, and he loved to see him smile. Always. The older man kissed his forehead, as Jizabels third brief story came to a close, and he brought up something else in response to Jizabels earlier question of just 'how much' he knew.

"...What about..." he frowned, unsure whether he was walking a fine line or not, "...What about Snark?"

He immediately knew he had said something wrong, and he felt the younger man shake, a startled whimper escaping his throat.

"...How do you.... how do you know about...."

"You've mentioned that name sometimes, when you're asleep...."

Jizabel swallowed, pulling away from Cassians embrace and rolling over in the bed to face away from him, his steely gaze facing towards the window at the moons calm light. "What have I said in my sleep...?"

Cassian raised a hand, about to set in on his shoulder before recoiling, as if Jizabels pale skin would be red hot, or venomous.

"You... haven't said much..... I'm sorry I asked."

"....Don't be."

Silence fell between them, as Jizabel wrapped the blanket abit tighter around his body.

"....Who was Snark?"

Silence again, broken only by Jizabels ragged breaths as he tried to fight away the illness he was feeling, and force back his memories. Still, Cassians touch was what he wanted, Cassian could make it feel just a little bit better, even if it-

He took in a sharp breath, as he felt Cassian scoot closer to him again, wrapping his arms around him. He looked down, briefly thinking how perfect Cassians hand looked against his own chest, pulling him close.

"...Snark was....my best friend.... my only..." He closed his eyes as the nausea hit him, but Cassian rested his head on Jizabels shoulder for a minute, just beside his ear.

"It's fine. You don't have to tell me now, it's alright..." he whispered... but Jizabel pushed him back, rolling over again to face him.

"I can tell you..."

"What happened...?"

Without a word he leaned against Cassians own shoulder, in turn whispering in the older mans ear a story that he never had wished to recall, but knew he had to now more than ever... and knowing that if anyone would listen, if anyone would understand, it would be him. That was the only reason, the only way. Cassian could know, because Cassian would care, could care...

And when he fell asleep in his lovers arms almost an hour later, his shattered childhood laid bare, and then accepted... He slept easy with the realization that that single night had been the greatest experience of his entire life.

----

"Jizabel?"

The doctor turned, a state of unease falling over him at the Carmasters voice.

"...Yes?"

Jizabel had been on his way to the courtyard when he'd shown his face. He could only assume he knew what was coming. It could be any number of things really, but he had made the guess it had something to do with the medicine he'd been slipping to Riff. The last thing he needed now was for that demon to come out of his shell ahead of schedule.

"Come this way, please." Alexis said, in a calm and professional matter, as he unrolled the wip in his hands. "We'll continue this conversation in a more private area."

Jizabel scowled, there was even a smile twisting up in that sick mans face. This was business, nothing more, nothing less. Just a regular transaction, possibly something he'd even scheduled for this exact time today. Jizabel raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed and his eyes locked on the wip.

"Might I be informed of my misdemeanor?"

He chuckled in response, crossing over to lay a hand on his sons shoulder, in a way any father would, but the sadistic gleam in his eye took all the innocence from the action.

"I think it's abit more than a misdemeanor, boy, but to answer you're question... I shall inform you inside."

He raised a hand, gesturing towards the door back into the building, but Jizabel stared right past him.

"No...I'd rather stay here." With little more then that, he started at the first button at the edge of his collar, soon tossing his coat, shirt, and tie into a pile on the floor, finally removing his glasses from the bridge of his nose, setting them more gently on top of the rest of his clothing.

"Well?"

The Cardmaster paused, as if dumbfounded by this behavior, but proceeded to laugh, giving his usual comments towards his sons more masochistic tendencies.

"On your knees then." He said, pointing to the ground. Jizabel failed to share his enthusiasm, however, his face just as cold as before without even the slightest hint of concern, let alone actual fear.

"My... crime?" There was a bite in his tone, a clear disgust not in the punishment, but the timing of the punishment. The Cardmasters patience, however was running out.

"_Get... Down._" He said, with a tone that mocked Jizabels own, as he gripped his sons hair tightly, using it to pull him to the grass beneath him. He straightened back up, pacing around until he was behind Jizabel, all the while tapping the handle of the wip in his hand.

"If you ask nicely, I'll get you something to bite down on. Something to distract you from the pain. I might even lessen the punishment if you plead."

"...You already know my answer, you filthy-"

A snap echoed through the courtyard, most likely resounding through the entire headquarters. Jizabels fingers dug into the ground, tearing up grass and dirt beneath them.

"I don't care for your harsh language, Jizabel."

Another crack of the wip, crossing over the previous cut and timed precisely to inflict the most pain. Alexis knew the best methods, he always had, there had never been a time when his punishments were any less agonizing... nor could he recall them ever being any worse in the past. Another crack, splitting the air before coming down on the torn flesh. He'd like to have said that they were more painful before, but perhaps that belief was only reenforced by how much he'd cried the first few times. How much he'd screamed those times before he'd gone numb. Another... Another...

A droplet of blood fell beneath his head, and it took him a moment to realize that it had come from his mouth, and that he'd bitten so hard into his lower lip that it was dripping onto the grass beneath him. Another snap of the wip. Strange, that he was even biting his lip... was he caving in quicker today then usual?

He gasped, realizing he hadn't taken a breath since it had started, and, in doing so, his arms nearly buckled under him as the wip came down again.

"...Wh-what... did I... do...?"

There was no answer, though as the wip cracked again he sank back into his numbed state, questioning why he'd even asked such an idiotic question. Father probably had no actual reason anyway... The suns light in the courtyard had been completely eclipsed by the cardmasters shadow, at least from his view, and he couldn't help but feel closer to the ground now... His gaze went back down to the small droplets of blood below his face, and in turn he came to realize that it was now his full forearm supporting his weight, and no longer just his hands against the damp grass. He shuddered, raising his head as he noticed a few specks of blood forming a short trail in the grass infront of him. _Odd...That can't be mine... _Another crack of this wip, though he had long since stopped noticing them. _Are those... feathers....? _He squinted, gazing at the blood splattered ahead of him, and realizing that littering the grass there were, infact, feathers. _Down feathers? _Another snap, followed shortly by Alexis' foot pressing down onto Jizabels torn back, forcing him flat against the ground.

"...and yet you continue to dirty yourself, drowning in your own sin... You've certainly gone father then I'd ever have predicted."

Another snap of the wip. _Had he been talking to me? _He must have, but if he had, then he hadn't the faintest idea when he'd started.

"I've never felt the need to correct these things, but now..."

Another snap. _I can't even hear you.... How long have you been speaking? Were you answering my question....? Father?_

"....Yet just like Jezebel..."

The wip fell from his hands, dropping to the ground as Alexis pulled Jizabels head up, bringing him to face him.

"...You've become quite the filthy whore...."

_Do...Do you know already??_

"...You've even done your best recently to twist the foundation of this organization, _really_ it seems like everyone you get involved with just turns against me.... although that may just be coincidence...."

He let go of him, knocking him back to the ground before rolling the wip back up in his hand.

"You should be aware by now that I have several of my men keeping a close eye on you, if you continue to challenge me, my tolerance will eventually run out. You've hardly completely anything I've ordered you to do, but perhaps you've just been distracted... Well, both High Priest Cassandra and that... _assistant_ of yours are gone from the premises, and I've also taken the liberty to remove any other distractions."

He gripped his sons arm, pulling the younger man to his feat, though doing his best not to get any blood on his clothing. With a sharp jerk he drug him towards the tree that centered yard, the same tree that came up to the balcony in his room, where the doves roosted. His eyes were still on the ground, as the trail of blood became thicker, and a few larger feathers littered the path.

With a forceful push Alexis shoved his son down to his knees, knocking him to the base of the tree where the corpses of his flock had been scattered, their bodies reduced to feathers, blood, and entrails. Their wings smashed and torn off, their heads snapped backwords, never to sing again.

"Be thankful I let them live this long"

And with that he left, leaving his son in near the same broken state as when he'd dropped his fork to the dining room floor, coughing up the remains of his best friend onto the carpet.

----

**Yayyy, more pain and angst. Oh, and no song lyrics again. Sadness. ;-;**

**I'm watching Alice in Wonderland right now. The 1999 one. That reminds me, I named Jizabels sisters. Oh joy, They're Alice and Frances. Alice because... 'cause it's Alice. Frances, 'cause I just played a victorian brat named Frances in a play. You'll be seeing more of them in the future of this fic. It's funny, I'm sitting here trying to write fractions Jizabels childhood, while Sorryll is diving into the tales of the boymanthing. (Inside joke.) Anyway, I thought about giving them names of biblical relevance, but I re-thought it entirely... I believe, or at least I believe it in this fic, that Jizabels sisters are not Alexis'... Therefore he didn't really have any "YAR! IMMA GONNA RUIN YOUR LIFE, CUS IVE ALREADY PLANNED UR LIFE FOR U. LULZ."**

**So yeah, Jizabel and his sisters don't share the same father, but the two sisters were both from the same man...**

**So, I suppose nothing has been answered yet... I assure you, there was a good reason for Cassians leaving... Well, not so much a good reason, but a reason and an answer... and all this stuff. xP**


	10. I would Understand

"Alice! Frances!"

A womans call cut through the summer breeze, as she lowered herself to the blanket beneath her, adjusting her gown as she kneeled. Her call immediately caught the attention of the girls, who, despite their captivating games, ran straight back to the blanket. Their laughter rang like bells through the park, as they too sat at the blanket under the willow tree, gaping at the small arrangement of sandwiches and sweets before them. Both the mother aswell as the two daughters shared the same features, light ash blonde hair that fell just barely above their wastes, although the mother kept hers up, and soft blue eyes.

Alice was the oldest of the two sisters, if only by a year. Although she was not particularly smarter then other girls her age, she had, frankly, seen too much, and heard too much, and after years of sticking her nose where it did not belong she believed herself to be far more knowledgeable than her peers. And she was right in this assumption, to some extent.

Frances, on the other hand, was far more naive in the affairs of adults, and often times crueler then her older sister, though it was anyones guess when this cruelty was intentional, or honest mistake. Alice's world revolved around her books, she was a girl who eagerly awaited the daily lessons from her governess. Her books, and of course her family.

From a young age she'd felt a maternal need to watch over her younger sister, aswell as seek the attention of their mother and father.

She smiled eagerly as she raised a cucumber sandwich to her mouth, ignoring the grabby hands of her sister as they dove for the tea cookies. Finally, their was the youngest sibling, who the girls had all but forgotten about on such an outing. Alice took a sip of her tea, looking over the edge of the cup at the carriage parked beside her mother.

It started over a year ago. That was the first time she'd seen her baby brother. Small, and frail, but peaceful in his mothers arms. Alice knew, however vaguely, the truth of her brothers birth. It was easier for Frances, not knowing. As far as _she_ knew the stork had dropped him on their doorstep, nevermind their mothers months of pregnancy. Nobody would have known, though. The child looked just like his sisters did at that age, just like their mother. Had it not been for the fact that their, Alice and Frances', father was dead nobody would have had reason to doubt his lineage.

"Frances, don't eat the cakes quite yet."

The youngest sister pouted, pulling her hand away from the tray of sweets before turning away from her family to sulk with her doll. It was an elegant plaything, though it was handed down to her from Alice. Although she had one of her own, this one was her favorite, with it's curled, dark choclate, hair, and sapphire blue eyes. Alice hadn't found it amusing for that long, in truth there wasn't much to do with it. Brush its hair, fuss over its dress, it was all rather trivial to her... But Frances could think what she wanted.

"But Mummy-"

"Shush up, Frances."

"Alice! That isn't the way to talk to your sister."

The eldest sighed, though she did not respond. At these moments it was best to pick her tea cup back up, and drink. It gave her an excuse not to speak. Although this nice silence wouldn't last long before their mother would force an apology out or her, or before Frances began to babble about whatever took her fancy... Or, in this case, before Jizabel awoke, their mother being immediately distracted, and dropping the matter completely.

Alice was the first who would disappear.

------

Two hours had passed since Jizabel interrupted The Hermits work, clearing the table and gently setting down the doves cold body. Zenopia didn't care: Frankly, the doctors love of animals got in the way of his work, it was a hinderance... But he wouldn't say a word about it. Everyone had some passion, his being the medical field in general, and he didn't feel he had the right to argue over Disraelis.

Today was different, however... Given the condition of everyone in this organization, where did he find the right to call someone mad? For all he'd known, the bird had been breathing when the younger doctor picked it's tattered body off the ground, but that hadn't been the case for several minutes now. It was dead when he pushed Zenopia out of the way and set it on the table. It was dead when he attempted to put splints on several of it's broken limbs.

And it was dead two minutes later, when reality sunk it. Or, at least, when he admitted reality, and dropped it's mangled body down the rubbish chute... His expression as cold and heartless as always.

That expression that remained on his face when he sat down outside of the room, letting Zenopia return to his studies. The same blank expression he wore now, as he stared blankly at the tiles on the floor, the cracks in the walls, and the scars up his own arm.

Everything now was irrelevant. Cassian, the flock, Snark, everything he'd ever cared about were completely irrelevant to him.

There was hardly a week left, and it would all be over. It was best to get such distractions out of his way.

Cain was relevant. Death was relevant.

_Distractions._

His fist clenched around the scalpel in his coat pocket, that last object that was keeping him connected to this room, to this whole world. To the naked eye he'd sunken back into his shell, to anyone who watched him as he looked on blankly to the peeling wallpaper across from him, he was completely lost by now.

This was not the case... Not entirely. He _was_ lost, but he was also thinking. Surprisingly, that was something he hadn't done now in several months. He'd studied, he'd devised, but he'd hardly stop to think about himself, or the road ahead. Not since he first met Cain, and that fire, that hatred, was rekindled. Anything inbetween the hate and the angst was just Cassian carrying him, cushioning his falls... Something which only made the falls harder now that the support had been pulled away. Really, Cassian seemed no better then his father now...

And somehow, the future seemed alot less muddy, now that the clock was ticking down to the last last minute. He swallowed, turning his gaze to his own feet, the mud and flecks of blood splattered on his shoes, and the cracks in the tile. Something else just passed his train of thought:

The only thing that hadn't crossed his mind in the past hour was _the present_. And now, as he thought he'd found the will to leave the hall, and find something else to lose himself in, he realized that there simply _was_ nowhere to go.

Back into that small, dingy room with Zenopia.

Or upstairs.

Upstairs with his father, and Riffael. Neither of whom he was up to facing. His job was down here, building the end of the world. Father was fine with Riffael, he was the new second favorite, afterall. Second Favorite, as Cain was always the priority.

He withdrew his hand from his pocket, resting his head in both of his hands and letting a sigh he'd been holding in for awhile escape his chapped lips.

If he added up the hours, the portion of his life where _he_ had been the "second favorite" was minuscule. The Cardmaster was always finding new ways to entertain himself, and eventually this focus on Raffit would pass. And if it didn't pass, they'd all be dead soon anyway.

Jizabel smirked to himself. In a way, it was gratifying to know that no matter what they'd all face the same end, and that they all meant nothing. It was almost hilarious how Riffael actually believed he held the upper hand.

_The upper hand? If _anyone_ here is to hold all the cards, it's father..._

Just a few more days. Time would be out for Delilah.

"...Disraeli?"

Jizabel lifted his head, his eyes clearing abit as he stared up at Zenopia, slightly astounded how he was hunched over so low in his seat that The Hermit was actually _above_ him for once.

"Hmm?" The younger doctor responded, completely unaware as to just how run down he looked. He paused, brushing his hair away from his face, before noticing two bags on the floor next to Zenopia.

"Have you been out here this whole time?" Zenopia questioned, prodding haphazardly at the other mans affairs. He never did show any discretion.

"Yes," Jizabel replied, It was much more a statement then a response, he wasn't in the mood to talk about what had transpired the hour before. It was almost humiliating, in a way. His eye contact with Zenopia was only momentarily, before he turned his gaze back on the two bags, as if they'd move if he looked away. "...Where are you going, if I may ask?"

Again, his tone was blank, and the "if I may" was hardly sincere.

"Well, yes..." Zenopia paused, scratching his chin as if he'd been caught in the act, before following the doctors empty gaze to the bags, "...I suppose this puts a damper in my plans." He remarked, with a slight shrug.

"...You were leaving then?"

A silence fell between them, though Jizabel acted completely alright with this new revelation, Zenopia appeared far less at ease, with what seemed to be a twinge of guilt.

"....It's... Something I've wanted to do for a very long time."

"Then go."

A shocked expression came over Zenopia's face, and he gave a nervous look between Jizabel and the door at the end of the hall.

"Why are you still here? It isn't as if I care. No one leaves Delilah, however... When have I ever enforced these things...? Worry more about The Moon and The Tower..."

Zenopia swallowed, resting a hand on Jizabels shoulder.

"Well... Then...." He paused, digging something out from his pocket, and shoving it into the younger mans hand. "...If that's the case then, consider getting away from this place yourself."

Jizabel twitched ever so slightly as he looked down at the crumpled paper that had been set in his hand.

"... When I came here, it was to shine light on the mysteries of life, to make scientific advancements that would shake the country, the world even," he stopped, sighing, as he took a glance back through the open door of the lab. "...but then Delilah came to be, it was what we became... and I suppose the rest you know already."

Jizabel swallowed, reading over what looked like an address written on the parchment.

"I don't suppose I can change your mind but," Zenopia scratched his head, "...You're far too talented to just follow that man, if you do ever consider leaving..."

He tapped the paper that was in Jizabels hand. "...If you can't find me there, the old couple that live there should be able to tell you of my whereabouts. We may be able to work together."

"...You're correct," Jizabel paused, just long enough to give Zenopia hope, although he really wasn't meaning to. "...I most likely _will_ stay here."

Zenopia rubbed his chin, before lifting the bags back up off the floor. "If you insist... I took most of my research notes, but I spent most of last night copying the ones that you needed for The Cardmasters little 'princess'..."

"Good," Jizabel responded dryly, crumpling the note back up and shoving it into the pocket of his labcoat. Strange, as far as he knew this was the first time Zenopia had been anything short of certifiable and odd. Really, he'd been rather insightful for once, it was actually a shame he was leaving... On the other hand, he was just one less person to grow attracted to, a mistake he would not let happen a third time. By then, Zenopia had made it down the hall way, but he paused at the door, turning back to Jizabel with his usual joyous expression back on.

"Well, I've always been one to explain everything, even the work we've done here, in a logical light. 'Never believed in that tarot nonsense, but last I looked into it 'Death' was merely a card of change, and not disaster..... Just something worth thinking about."

With that, he closed the door behind him, leaving a rather dumbfounded doctor in his wake.

_One more out of the picture._

_---_

Riffael stepped out from the room silently, passing down the hall back towards the Cardmasters chambers... followed ten minutes later by Jizabel, who was still buttoning his shirt, ignoring his blood as it soaked through and stained the fabric.

"My god, I really can't believe you did that!"

Jizabel glared, as the arsonist leaned his arm against the wall, his other hand at his side, carelessly twirling a match between his fingers.

"It would be one thing if you'd taken away the prize and killed him there, but _letting him go?_ What are planning?" He smirked, striking the match and continuing to play with it, creating a small, and short lived, light show. "...Would you let me in on it?"

Jizabel glared daggers at him, as he buttoned the front of his vest.

"All my previous assistants knew when best to keep quite," He remarked, drawing a ribbon from his pants pocket and pulling his hair back, before making his way down the hallway and back to the main hall. The arsonist smirked, tipping his hat forward abit before casually strolling towards his superior.

"Really? You didn't object with that last one, Did you?" Jizabel froze, turning on heel to face the younger man. The pyromaniac smiled, before laughing rather obnoxiously to himself. "Well, that got your attention, eh? You right out-"

He choked on his last words, finding himself pinned against the wall for a good second before he grasped what had happened. There was a peculiar gleam in Jizabels eyes, as he pressed his scalpel against the mans neck. "Now, now..." A nervous chuckle escaped his throat, as he stretched his arm across the wall, attempting the get a grip on a candelabrum that rested on a pedestal beside the door. Needless to say, Jizabel countered this, pulling the scalpel away from his neck and jabbing it into his forearm, getting a pained yelp in response.

"Don't try."

"Heh... Really... You must be thinking right now..." He swallowed, a bead of sweat dropping from his forehead, "...What the bloody hell did you do to wind up with me... righ'? ...So you're going to kill me...? I'm as low as your little errand boys can get, do you really want to see what kind of man The Cardmaster would use to replace me...?"

In reality, he was just stalling. But he was rather bright, and he knew full well he had slipped up. Now it was just time to use it to his advantage. Afterall, in this line of work, leverage kept one alive. "...Well.... Aren't you going to ask...?" He snickered, before clawing against the grip Jizabel still had on his throat. "...Or, would you rather we go do the things you did with your _last_ partner."

The scalpel slid back up, pressing into his neck just enough to draw blood.

"This is the only time I will ask you... How did you know?" He loosened his grip slightly, giving the man beneath him room to breath and talk.

"...Heh...I _didn't_ know, it was assumption... Assumption that _you_ just confirmed," The Doctors breath hitched in his throat, as The Arsonist rubbed his, now free, neck. "...Well, well, I suppose you just let something slip too. We're even."

"...You arrived here several days after Cassians departure. Even if you had been here earlier, at your level as a trump card you would not have even been allowed in the same wing of this building as the higher cards. If there's one small sin that rarely transpires here it is idle gossip, nobody _told you_ of him.... How long have you _really_ been here?"

Despite Jizabels monotonous tone, there was murder in his eyes, as he took a step closer to the young man, backing him further against the wall.

"Well, wouldn't you like to know that..." He froze, biting his tongue as Jizabel slid the scalpel towards his face again, this time suspiciously close to his eye.

"They are your only good features, you know...." He smiled as The arsonist squirmed against him, following that natural instinct to get as far from the blade as possible. "...And even with that.... They are rather dull."

"Alright! ...It's been a few months now, I'm actually disappointed you didn't catch on sooner.... but 'ey, one can't have everything." He twitched slightly, as the doctor loosened his grip a final time, this time sliding his scalpel back in his pocket.

"I never want to see you here again."

"...Too bad," The man snickered, " ..._he_ wants to see you again."

Jizabels eyes widened, and he took a step back, the prats words striking a wrong chord. That last out of tune and broken chord that wasn't supposed to be played again.

"...'Said something about your delusional fantasies and a half-thought plan. Heheh, take care."

And with that he strolled out of the room, as casually as he had walked in.

----

**Augh, short chapter is short, I'm sorry. And about the cliffhanger-ish-ness..... Ahhh.... it's not what you think, I swear it. xD;;**

**No, actually, it's me digging my own grave by slightly changing a once solid plotline. I'm not all that pleased with this chapter but, I'll live.**

**Big shout out to Sorryll. Also, a shoutout to a certain boymanthing that didn't appear in this chapter. ;-;**


	11. Swimming Through Sick Lullabies

The door closed softly behind Cassian, as he stepped into the empty hallway. It was cold out here, it had been cold since he rose from Jizabels bed, dressed himself, and walked to the door... but not before giving one last look to the lump under the blanket that was the doctor, of course.

He exhaled, another fight playing out in his conscious as he stared wistfully at the knob. Really, it wasn't too late to just walk back in, burn the note, and crawl back into bed, ready to wake the next morning with Jizabel in his arms.

But there was nothing for them here. He could see it now, now more so than ever before. If he stayed, they would both die here. The hazy part of his mind liked the idea. It was beautiful, really, like some shakespearian tragedy. If death would take them both, at least they could fall in eachothers arms...

But even with less than a month left 'till the end, he knew the Cardmaster would give them no peace. If Cassian stayed, he knew that man would find out soon enough... He could even find out regardless....

"Damnit, Jizabel..." He hissed, his voice choking up as his fist hit the wall, sliding down until it fell back to his side.

Even if it wasn't the doctors fault, the same memories played out in the theatre of his mind, repeating themselves over and over. Jizabels lips crushing against his own, each soft moan... Every _sound_, every _image_, every word he spoke, everything he'd confided in him.

_"Don't... Leave me..."_

He swallowed, tearing himself away from the closed door and continuing down the hall. _I should have left him right then..._

"Secret rendezvous in the dead of night....?"

Cassian gasped, looking up ahead as he came to the stairwell, to see the source of the voice.

"...Now... Why does this not surprise me?" The last words were more of a sigh, as The Fool shifted his position on the rail, apparently contemplating the idea of sliding down it to the lower floor, an idea which he finally rejected, for the time being.

"You... What are you-"

"Observing..." He muttered, dangling one leg off the rail. "It's what I do.... _You_ are the one _I_ should ask that question to."

"Leaving," Cassian answered, with little hesitation.

"To the Opera?"

Cassian raised an eyebrow, somewhat perplexed by this statement until he remembered his appearance, and just what slime he was wearing the skin of.

"What, No, I-"

A chilling laughter rang through the chamber, as the smaller figure slid gracefully off the rail, onto the floor where Cassian was standing. The sound of the laughter itself was not so much menacing, as it was... disturbing. There was almost something unearthly about the Owl, something whimsical that made even the Deadly Dolls seem perfectly ordinary. Perhaps it was simply his state of mind that made him come across this way.

"Oh, no... I jest. I know that you're not _him_. Despite the body, you lack the demeanor. Though you're still just as difficult for me to take serious....."

"Strange.... Since _you're_ The Fool."

"Touche, yet hardly relevant... Where was it you said you were going?"

"I didn't."

"Oh?"

Cassian scowled, stepping past White Owl and onto the stairs.

"I don't have time..." He muttered under his breath, ignoring The Fool as he picked up his violin, holding it gingerly as he slunk back onto the rail, lifting the bow just as Cassian reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Escaping?" He chimed in again, obviously unable to let the subject go.

"No." He said firmly, as he continued on his way.

The owl sighed, his fingers on the strings as he lowered the bow, the first notes ringing through the otherwise silent mansion.

_Let him do as he pleases..._

He thought, his fingers dancing a melancholy waltz over the strings.

_Let them each drop out of this story one by one...._

He drew the bow across the strings, his other hand shaking, causing those strings he manipulated to weep.

_...He'll be waking up soon._

He played the last note, lifting his head to look out the closest, dingy, window at the dim morning light, staring wistfully as the dust waltzed through the air.

"...It _is_ a shame, really," He remarked with a small frown, before sliding all the way down the rail, landing gracefully on the tile beneath him.

* * *

A certain pyromaniac yelped as he was pushed roughly against the wall, books and trinkets falling from a nearby shelf as he hit the chipped paint and wallpaper.

"Bloody hell, you're stronger then you look!"

"When?!"

"So, I see I've got you riled then-"

"When did you speak with _him_?!"

At this moment it had only been five minutes since the arsonist had left the hall and walked down to his own quarters, three since Jizabel finally followed after him, and fifty seconds since the aforementioned had entered said arsonists room, and pinned him against the wall, self control just out of his reach, given his current anger and, to be frank, painful confusion.

"...I didn't."

Jizabel took a sharp breath, realizing he hadn't done so for the past minute, his hand shaking slightly.... which would have given the arsonist the perfect chance to push him away and run off, had he actually noticed the doctors strength wavering.

"Then..." he swallowed, his grip on the mans shoulder, and neck, tightening once more, "...No, you did-"

"Knock it off already! You know I'm not lyin'."

Jizabel scowled, letting his hands, and knife, drop from the arsonists neck. The younger man swallowed, rubbing his throat and taking this chance to get a few steps away from the doctor.

"Fine, It had lost it's amusement anyway..." He remarked, before pulling a stained envelope from his vest. Jizabels eyes narrowed, as he stabbed the knife into the soft wood of the table behind him.

"...What is...."

"Tch, For some 'intelligent' scientist you ask too many questions..." He muttered, stepped forward with the envelope still in his outstretched hand, "...Take the bloody thing, I don't want it."

The older man scowled, viscously snatching it from the arsonists hand....which said arsonist immediately withdrew afterword, taking another nervous step back from the doctor.

Jizabel turned it over slowly, his vision snapping straight back to the arsonist after he read his name across the front, in what he knew to be Cassians writing, the ink barely legible due to some liquid spilled on it, presumably tea. The arsonist looked away, avoiding the doctors eyes as he took yet another step towards the door. Now would have been a fine time to sneak out, but the idea of seeing the doctors reaction had sparked his interest. He never did know when to back off, not in his entire life.

Jizabel took a slow breath, before sliding the envelope open and withdrawing the damaged note.

_"Although I do not know if this will serve as any condolence, I will still apologize._

_The last thing I ever wished to do was hurt someone who had already been hurt enough. If I said I did not do this out of fear I would be lying. I was, and am, terrified of what will happen._

_I do have a plan. Please, bear with this. I promise that I will come back before this month is out. And that I'll take you with me. My only request is that you forgive me for what I've done, and that..._

_Your life is far more important then you'll ever know, promise me, don't toss it away for that mans sake._

_I know what I've done is the wrong choice. I know that I should just take you and go_

_but I'm hardly thinking straight as I write this_

_Stay alive, in body and mind_

_Wait for me_

_I love you. I'll return for you. I am so sorry, my Jizabel_

_Cassian"_

A melancholy smile spread over the doctors face, as he silently folded the letter closed again, his eyes lifting back up to the arsonist.

"What...." He muttered, his hand toying with the door knob, "You actually think he's coming back, don't you....?" He chuckled, a sound which Jizabel had grown quite tired of in the past week, "You're just about as-"

"I don't think he's returning."

"What?" His laughter was cut short by the iciness of the doctors tone, those harsh eyes far different now from the expression he'd seen on his face a moment before.

"You misunderstand me completely. I hardly would say that he is returning, although such things as this," he held the letter up, between his middle and forefingers, "...give one a sense of closure."

A coldness returned to his grin, as he brushed the letter across a candle on the table, the flames caressing and enveloping the edge of the paper.

"I can _almost_ understand your fascination..." He remarked, suddenly drawing it away from the candle, blowing out the flame in the process, "...It is rather beautiful."

And with out another word, he drew his knife from the table.

* * *

"....Jizabel?"

A silence fell over the room as the doctor looked up from the arsonist, who was once more pinned to the wall, this time of his own means, for the knife that had been hurled towards his head, which was now embedded in the wall, still kept him paralyzed in fear. Alexis stood in the doorway, regarding the whole scene in an irritated manner, but saying nothing more about it other than 'I would prefer you play nicer with your toys.'

...Which Jizabel seemed to take into consideration, as he withdrew the knife from the wall, flashing a final glare towards the arsonist, who took the message, before he walked back towards the table, leaning against it in a casual manner in hopes of hiding the half burnt letter he'd left on it.

Although, really, it hardly mattered, it was obvious to him now that the foolish little fire starter had been passing information directly to the Cardmaster. If not for him, not of this would have happened.... No, he reminded himself, none of this would have happened had he simply not slept with Cassian.

"Now that your little scuffle is over, would you mind getting to business like I wished," he said suavely, drawing a short sword from his coat and offering the handle to Jizabel, "...Mikaila could use a visit, Jizabel."

And with little more than a bow he took the misericorde, and left the room silently

* * *

"Hmm... An interesting turn of events, I would say," The Cardmaster remarked, his chin resting on his hand as he sit idly in his throne. " ...My dolls all seem to find minds of their own, it would seem..."

His last remark ending with a cruel glance to Jizabel, who deepened his bow immediately, as if trying to escape the coming storm.

"Well, it was not as if I really cared for her to return," He paused, pondering whether to excuse his son or not, before another question came to his mind. "...And what of the arsonist?"

"Deceased," Jizabel said blankly, keeping his eyes on the floor. Riffael shifted, leaning his elbow against the Cardmasters chair in a bored fashion, though The Moon was steely as always. The Cardmaster himself, however, was now smiling like the demon he was.

"My, My, you have a bad habit of loosing your assistants. It really is not efficient for us to be replacing your little trump cards left and right."

"I am capable of working on my own, Cardmaster. They are a hinderance to me, for the most part..."

"I did not say that you could speak."

Jizabel twitched slightly, as The Cardmaster rose from his chair, anticipating whatever punishment was in store. However, his father walked past him, The Tower and The Moon accompanying him to the door.

"You may let yourself out..." He murmured.

The doctor exhaled, staring off into the doorway in a blank state, almost expecting Alexis to turn right around and accuse him of some sin or another, but he had simply left it at that. Given what words he'd exchanged with Cain today, what secrets that incompetent assistant had turned over to him....

He stood finally, pulling the half burnt letter from his pocket as he made his way down the long corridor.

Given what had happened today, he couldn't decide if his father letting him off what a good thing or not. He could have used the agony to distract him. His heart skipped a beat, as he remembered what had happened the previous time Alexis had shown him his place...

No, it was a good thing he was let off this time. His next actions would just lead to The Cardmaster heightening his punishments, and although that numbness of his had set back in after Cassians abandonment, he still didn't like the idea of that man taking away anything else. Though what was left to be taken away, he really didn't know.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at the letter again. When he held it over the flame it had been nothing more then a cover, really, he had been hoping there was something more to the note, perhaps an invisible ink? That would have had a reaction to heat...

_"Although I don't know if this will serve as any condolence, I will still apologize._

_The last thing I ever wished to do was hurt someone who had already been hurt enough. If I said I did not do this out of fear I would be lying. I was, and am, terrified of what will happen._

_I do have a plan. Please, bear with this. I promise that I will come back before this month is out. And that I'll take you with me. My only request is that you forgive me for what I've done, and..."_

No, there was nothing else to it at all.

_"Your life is far more important then you'll ever know, promise me, don't toss it away for that mans sake."_

Life, as a whole, is meaningless, Cassian....

_"I know what I've done is the wrong choice. I know that I should just take you and go_

_but I'm hardly thinking straight as I write this"_

He ran his finger over the ink. It was obvious by the spacing, and the state of his handwriting, that he'd paused several times in the middle of the letter, and most likely changed his mind on more than one occasion, and were those....?

_"Stay alive, in body and mind_

_Wait for me_

_I love you. I'll return for you. I am so sorry, my Jizabel_

_Cassian"_

A lump formed in his throat, as he continued to trace his finger over that last bit, a few select lines were the ink had run.

_They do look like tear drops...._

He shook his head, almost crumpling it before yet another conflict hit him, and he unfolded the crumpled edges, proceeding to fold it back up again _neatly_ before gently sliding it into the breast pocket of his coat.

_You could have at least written more... _

He paused, coming to the main hall.

_Why wasn't there another message...?!_

That small place left in his heart wanted more. An address? A plan? Somewhere he could go, _something_. No. It wasn't like Cassian to do that, he wasn't _that_ resourceful. But something else was drifting over his senses, pushing that question he kept asking from his head. His eyes narrowed, as he looked up to the banister that The Fool had chosen to roost on. His bow slid off the strings, as his right arm dropped down to hang loosely at his side, his left still holding the violin at his chin.

"Well, beautiful turn of events today, correct?" He smiled, though whether the expression reached to his eyes was speculation, since those dark glasses never came off, "I hear that our little pyrotechnic went up in flames."

"...Yes. He did."

White owl chuckled. "Well, I hope he is pleased with himself. Not everyone gets a death so suited to their tastes."

Jizabel remained where he was, his eyes locked on the bow in Owls hand. "Somehow, I fail to find his incompetence amusing."

The Fool shrugged, lifting the bow back to the strings, a soft hum echoing, thanks to the rooms almost perfect acoustics, as it touched.

"That is because you fail to find _anything_ amusing, Death," He drew the bow over the first string, then after, a short pause, he began to play again, the melody soon ringing down every hall way... Somewhat a common sound in Delilah. Perhaps it was his only way of saying that he even existed, of saying that he even _wanted_ people to care for that existence....

"You know... I'm only here to watch this chaos unfold... and how that story ends has nothing to do with our Cardmaster," He spoke quietly, though never ceasing his playing, "...He only controls his pawns to such an extent..."

Jizabels dull vision snapped into focus as he stared back up at the fool, who's melody had changed it's rythm to something just abit less mournful. "If you say something like that, aren't you intervening?"

White Owl glanced down, still playing, but managing to shrug ever so slightly. Truthfully it was not intervening, so much as... a small hope to spice up the symphony? Things had been so dull here the past few days.

_Even if he wishes to...._

The doctors eyes fell back to the floor, and he muttered something bellow his breath before walking out the main door, down into the streets.

_Even if he really wishes to....He is not coming back for me._

---

**I wish I had a way of actually writing what White Owl played as he played it. But, if you want to look up music and re-read both scenes....Well, Chopin's Nocturne Op.9 No.2 sounds simply amazing on a violin. Somehow, it sounds sadder on the violin.... Probably 'cause string instruments seem to amplify every emotionnnn... P:**

**That, and they make everything sound frickin' epic.**

**Seriously. Go look up The String Quartet tribute to Nirvana, and play Smells Like Teen Spirit. It's so epic on stringsssss. D;**

**Also, Fall Out Boys song Dance, Dance. It's awesome on the violin. Also, I wrote the last bit with Owl while listening to nothing but The Vitamin String Quartet. It was fun. The two songs that played when I was writing it were Mr. Brightside, originally by the Killers, and Good Riddance, by Green Day.**

**It's been so long since I last used song lyrics in this fic, but consider this the same sort of thing.**

**I originally intended the first section with Cassian and the last bit with Jizabel to mirror eachother, in terms of what White Owl was doing but... then things changed for some odd reason.**

**Loves to you all, and sorry for the uber slow updates. Damn, this chapter sucked. It's mostly filling in the space 'till I get were I want it to be. I promise Cassian will exist again soon. D;**


	12. Coming Home

"Sir?"

Cassian blinked, glancing to the base of the willow tree, and at the child resting there. A calm breeze was wafting in, lifting the autumn leaves from the trees in a whimsical fashion. His breath caught in his throat, as the voices of reality nagged at him the improbability of this meeting. _Besides, had it not been spring here a moment ago? _The boy tipped his head a perplexed matter, standing up this time.

"Sir?" He asked again, pausing as something brushed against his leg, the form of a young lamb stepping out from behind the tree, and stumbling into him with that familiar, awkward step of an infant, the sort of thing most people found irresistible in animals that young.

"Then… You're..?" the man swallowed, backing away from the child with a hand to his mouth_._ The child too took a step back, lifting the fluffy creature into his arms in a rather defensive way.

"Are… Are you alright?" He murmured, still clutching the lamb, but now eying the man with a distinct caution.

"Jizabel…" he choked, his throat tight, his words not coming out the way they should,_ this isn't right…_ "Jizabel, you have to come with me, alright?" _This is not real._

He took a sharp breath, unphased by the sudden cool crispness of the air, before holding out his hand. "Just… come with me." He murmured again, a rising urgency in his voice.

"A-are you a friend of fathers?" The boy whispered, backing up against the tree, as if he had no place left to escape. Cassian frowned, the words in his mind unable to reach the surface, as he took another step towards the child, this time hearing a soft crunching under his foot. _Snow? Now snow? _ Slowly he raised his eyes from the three or so inches of fresh snow on the ground, resting them again on the nervous child. This time however, yet another change in this fantasy had occurred aside from the weather. Rather then the boy of nine years he was sure he'd been talking to before, stood an older one, fifteen at the least… And in place of Snark, that poor childs only source of comfort, was a sharpened blade. Still, the same expression remained.

"Jizabel… Are you really Jizabel?"

The boy nodded slowly, slinking away from the tree and stepping in a slow circle around Cassian, either a prey not willing to risk taking its eyes off the predator, or the predator itself encircling the prey. Either outlook brought a sick feeling to the pit of Cassians stomach. _He's not, it he?_

"Who else would I be….?" The boy responded, his question far more sincere than sarcastic, as his hand tightened around the scalpel, drawing blood from his palm, blood which dripped down those thin, pale, fingers in a steady stream onto the pale white snow, "Am I them? Are they just part of me now?!"

He words were followed by a sharp cough, and he wrapped his arms around himself, the blood on his hands staining the laced white shirt he wore. Cassian took another step towards him, as cautiously as one would a wild animal… Although one part of him told him that Jizabel would never harm him, one part said he eagerly would, and the part entirely told him that none of this was real to begin with, merely an insane illusion caused by over work and stress. Afterall, Delilah gave one much to stress over, as did the current Jizabel and his tendency to chase death.

"I am not a friend of Alexis, It's me, Jizabel, I…" His frown deepened, as logic reminded him that a teenage Jizabel would have no recollection of man he'd only meet ten years later, "…I'm not your enemy. Alright?" He offered his hand yet again, bumps rising in his skin from the cold weather. And this time, surprisingly, whatever Jizabel he was currently speaking with decided to take a chance and take that hand. Which brought some relief to Cassian, as if one bridge had been safely crossed.

"Would you like to go somewhere else?" he asked, pulling the boy into his arms, doing his best to shield him from the deathly cold.

"But there is nowhere to go."

The older mans heart pounded, as he stared down at the red pigments staining the snow, and finally back to the boy in his arms. His breath caught in his throat as he stared down at the scarred up body in his hands. To the slit across the boys throat, to the whip marks that had nearly mutilated his back, and finally to the jagged cuts up and down his arm.

SINNER. The scars read boldly, an array of memories from that night, and visions of a nightmarish future playing across his mind.

"I told you…" He whimpered, his grip on Cassian loosening, "….There is nowhere to go."

* * *

The jolt coursed through him like electricity as he rose from the makeshift bed, in a cold sweat, his hair and clothing clinging uncomfortably to his skin. _Just another dream, then?_

He raised his hand rubbing his eyes before staring blankly at the pitch black around him. Normally this would have been the moment to look out the window at the star lit sky, before falling lazily back onto the bed and taking advantage of the next few hours he had free until the day came, and until he felt the need to trek up to the doctors chambers and help him prepare in the morning. However that had not been the norm for quite some time now, and after spending the past several days traversing Londons underground, in hopes of discovering the best escape routes for him and Jizabel in the future, sources of completely natural light were few and far inbetween. He groaned, rubbing his eyes once more before reaching blindly over the edge of his "bed", a coat he'd tossed over the cold stone, to grasp a box of matches beside it.

"Damn…" he grumbled coarsely, as he struck the match and fumbled at the ground beside his bag to find his lantern. Twenty more minutes passed until he finally gathered his belongings, and took the path nearest to him. All the roads lead to the surface, it was not a matter of where to go, but how and when to get there. That, and with less then a day left 'till all of London walked blissfully into a trap… Well, less then a day given the time he'd spent sleeping… It didn't matter either way, He still knew nothing had begun. Once _that_ madness started, nothing could keep it under wraps, even to those below the city, the explosions would be the first sign. Disgusting.

Though he had heard of their back up plans before leaving Delilah, nothing had prepared him for the grim reality of that situation, nor for the grizzly stories that circulated through the underground. He cringed, stepping around yet another scattered bone, as he re-adjusted the bag on his shoulder. With his current position, it would still take him roughly an hour to get back to Delilah's dumping site for the remnants of their little project. Such atrocities seemed just low, even to him. Though at the same time, a cruel voice told him that none of it really mattered in the long run. What was eating at him more was the question of what Jizabels part in all this might be.

_No matter what state he's in now, his fathers arms are more venomous than ever. The environment alone is smothering him…_

He sighed blankly, pausing as he shook his head. Why did the nature of their relationship still puzzle him so? Even now he was not sure just what he felt for the doctor, other then simplest explanation, and could not help but wonder if that disturbed young man was less confused about love then he was. To make things simpler in his own head, he had decided the night prior that whatever Jizabel felt was fine with him. If he was his lover, friend, father, or simple servant, he was willing to accept whatever weight was set upon his shoulders. But thinking clearer, after some needed sleep, he once again felt himself pining after the hope that "lover" was higher up on the list of things Jizabel saw in him. However odd he felt to finally think such things freely, for until Jizabel he had never once been attracted to a man in this matter. Regardless, he knew that he would never feel this way towards anyone else again, regardless of gender, which somewhat put his mind at ease on the subject. _Besides, it's not as if anyone else would find out, we'd be alone together, just us._

He smiled to himself, absentmindedly. It seemed to him that years had already passed since he'd left… And in those "years" he taken the liberty to reclaim what was truthfully his... Eagerly faking identities along the way, of course. In turn, he now had relatively free passing to a house on the country side that he was sure his deceased parents had no further use for... Nor did the most recent owners of the home, though that was a detail he decided to push to the back of his mind, thus, a part of the story which never happened.

Just the thought of how much Jizabel would love the property put abit more of a hop in his walk, as he stepped awkwardly around a few rats who'd been making a meal of some stomach churning rubbish that Cassian couldn't, and did not want to, identify.

Of course Jizabel would love it, the air was so clean and fresh, there were many acres of land to keep animals, and the countryside around it stretched on forever… Well, save for a small village a few miles down. _He_ had loved it there himself, back in the days when his childhood had actually been just that, and his body matched his mind. Another joy was that the general lack of people would make it much easier to blend in… Especially considering the most recent owners of the house, some distant relatives of his, he was mostly sure of, had only just moved in, and nobody in the surrounding area really had a chance to meet them. It wasn't as if anyone would notice the change in occupants when they were out in the middle of nowhere.

He rubbed his head, once again pushing his most recent murders from his mind, and focusing on more pressing matters. Besides, he could barely even remember where he'd buried the bodies. It was completely behind him now.

And as much as those visions of a perfect future where the both of them could be safe and content appealed to him, he knew that time was running down to fine tune his current plans. _If I hadn't decided to head up to the surface for food yesterday, and get lost for most of the evening this would not have happened…_

He frowned solemnly but kept walking, his mind now trailing on about the fresh loaf of bread in his bag, and how he really had not needed it. Then again, Cassandra was a pampered, weak, little man… He wasn't even sure if he could last too long in this body without proper nourishment. It hadn't taken him much time outside of Delilah to realize just how much more difficult life now was. Despite the advantages of a full grown body, he found his stamina drained much quicker… Something he knew would be alleviated in the future, through his usual physical labor, although he wished something could be done about it now. Even his knife throwing was not quite on the dot, considering the time it had taken to retrain his aim, as had it taken him awhile to get used to most other aspects of Cassandra's physique. _Thank god that _disgusting_ hair was all shaved off before the surgery…. _

How ironic the the twisting tunnels he now crawled through inhabited many of the people that bastard would have loved to kill… Just those unwanted souls trying to survive…

Of course, it did also house its fair share of criminals, though Cassian of all people hardly felt fit to judge, given his record. For now, he was satisfied that no one knew his face, the scars he wore had shielded his identity beautifully. He raised his lantern, looking over the area to make sure he was still on the right course, and after taking a moment to ponder which of the two turns he was supposed to be taking, he continued onward.

He could not wait to leave this place behind him. Despite the sense of security in knowing that no enemy of his could find him here, the darkness did awaken some of the blacker corners of his mind. Despite the disquieting dream, and the lost time, he was thankful for his sleep earlier; as it had been the first he'd had since he started coming down here. Lately his mind had only been haunted by visions of his broken youth, the ringleaders whip, and nightmares of Cassandra. These days, however, it wasn't so much the man himself, but who _he_ was today. Some nights he would lay awake and wonder what ever became of his old body…. Surely the remains had been cremated, or something along those lines. But the thought of them in a pile of corpses somewhere, decomposing… It spurred many nightmarish visions of his head, visions of coming face to face with himself, in death. Still, the idea of facing his own rotting corpse served as some support, as the thought of, in a way, already having died did relieve one of the fear of death. _If only my fears of _his_ death would wane…_

And there he was again, as he turned that last corner. Right back under Delilah's feet. He frowned deeply as he raised the lantern back to the pile of bones that were the centerpiece of this maze. Although he could not be certain, he was sure that the size of that massive grave had increased in the time he'd been gone. Yes… There was something particularly low about this act, something that made his stomach churn…. At the same time, however, one really couldn't look away from it. He shook his head, lowering the lantern and walking back around the pile, nearing his usual spot. He'd learned back in his youth that it was never good to leave ones belongings unattended in any poverty stricken, crime ridden, area… Space however, seemed a different matter here, a matter people seemed to respect, and he was thankful to find that his usual camp had not been dismantled.

And after stepping quietly over an older man sleeping on the cold, wet, stone, he dropped his bag on the ground, before pulling a flask from his coat and taking a drink… Although all he had left to fill it with was water.

The idea of any future without Jizabel had long since been erased from his mind. It was as simple as this: If anything were to happen to Jizabel, he would return to his old miserable existence, a lifeless one with only a purpose to kill, nothing more and nothing less. Just a dog. He would sooner die then live that way, and sooner kill himself were he to let anything more happen to Jizabel.

Those nightmares that haunted him every night… His sleep was so much better in those few times he had shared it with the doctor. And although he'd never fully comprehend how true it was, the same applied to Jizabel. How was it that a soul so troubled could provide that same comfort? Was what he felt those past few days in the underground that same feeling Jizabel lived with? Was Jizabel _always_ in this dark?

…Was lulling that poor boy to sleep the only thing that gave Cassian protection from his own mind, and sound sleep at night?

If so, how had he even lasted without him before that? But it hardly mattered, he knew the doctor now, and nothing could be done to change the past.

_But you'll love the future ahead of us, I know you will._

It was then that he took another swig from the flask, and then that the sound of bones crunching echoed through the maze of tunnels, causing him to jump ever so slightly. The first thing that came to mind was another dumping of human remains, but that same old sound was much different, much more hollow, and lighter…. He had heard it enough times to know it by heart.

And it was then that he turned around to face the pile of bones, the flask in his hand dropping limply to his side as he stared slack jawed at the raven haired young man lying unconscious, dumped right out of Justices chambers just like the rest.

"...Interesting."

* * *

**Lawls. Bear in mind that right about now a hobo is waking up on the otherside of that ol' pile o' bones, wondering who's started dropping aristocrats from the sky. So, just felt like noting that when Cassian says interesting, he says is with kind of an "oh shit" expression on his face. Because on one hand, things just got a tiny bit more complex…. But on the other hand, Cain, of all people, dropping from the ceiling has opened up a wide window of opportunities. xD**

**Anyway, this story is still winding down to it's last chapters. I'm kind of exited. xDD**

**Hah, well, how did one chapter of Cassian alone make up for the two chapters of Jizabel all by himself? Nahh, didn't really make up for it, Since poor Cassian can't take his mind off Jizabel.**

**This chapter was also pretty short, but I guess not as short as the early chapters… Thanks for reading as always, you guys make me so happeh.**


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